The Office
by airportgirl
Summary: Sixth Year, AU. SS is the new DADA teacher moving into Umbridge's newly vacated office. HP is recovering from a long summer with the Dursleys. Minerva is realising that leaving common sense to others might be a mistake. Rated M for later mature themes and mentions of abuse - nothing v graphic. Not HPSS. HIATUS hoping to update end of Jan, work just keeps sending me away!
1. Chapter 1

**I neither own nor profit from the world of Harry Potter.**

* * *

Severus Snape looked around the empty office, face impassive despite the lack of observers. It was a large room, but currently sparsely furnished. The desk faced the door to the classroom and a large chair sat behind it. Along two walls were bookshelves and filing cabinets containing planning materials and student information. A large window looked out toward the Forbidden Forest, and a second door led to the living quarters that he would most certainly not be making use of.

With a sigh he sat at the desk, pulling toward him the stack of Defence grades for each incoming year from second through seventh. He'd been surprised when Minerva had boasted the OWL defence grades earlier that summer. Severus hadn't really believed that Potter's little group had done little to help his friends - just look how poorly they'd managed against the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. If the Dark Lord hadn't wanted as little outright death as possible (the Ministry's refusal to accept his return had been a true boon) then all would likely have been killed outright. He should have known though that, with Granger at his side, Potter would have focussed on the OWL spells rather than true survival – hence the success of his peers.

Longbottom though. Who'd have thought it?

The exam results told him very little. Only the OWL cohort had sat an externally produced syllabus, and he'd banished the parchment of results left by Umbridge already. Minerva had, however, been right. His Slytherins rarely did badly at defence, but across the board aptitude tended to be patchy. The examiners' comments here were almost irritatingly complementary. _Students showed an unusually high familiarity with and confidence using a range of defensive magic. Spells cast were usually accurate and thankfully lacking in the hesitation that we have so often seen. The written portion of the exam was overall less strong, but students were particularly strong in discussing dangerous creatures and the use of defensive magic. Students are encouraged to continue with this subject where at all possible._

He huffed. So the OWL students were patchy in knowledge but confident in casting the most obvious defensive spells. He supposed even less could be said of the lower years, who hadn't even had the advantage of Potter standing in front of them, asking to be jinxed.

With a flick of his wand the results were re-filed, leaving Severus' eyes free to peruse the room. It was a mistake.

Here, last year, Umbridge had tried to crucio Potter, and had attempted to use veritaserum on his students.

Here, Alastor had been imprisoned in a trunk for months by Barty Crouch Jr.

Here, though no scratches remained to remind him, a werewolf had curled each full moon – harmless until it wasn't.

Here, the Dark Lord, acting through Quirrel, had attempted to curse Potter's broom in his first flying lesson, accidentally hitting Longbottom.

Here the Dark Lord had survived for a full year, in these rooms. He had shared a classroom with the students under Severus' care and had taken the life of a boy that Severus had once taught.

Severus shuddered. He could almost taste the dark residue, thick under his tongue. He had already informed the headmaster that he would remain in the dungeons, close to his charges, and now he was even more glad of his decision.

With a twist of his lips he summoned a fresh stack of parchment and his textbooks from the shelf. The students would need to be prepared for the war: prepared to face arts of the darkest nature. It was his job to get them there.

* * *

It was midday by the time Severus stretched his arms out. He'd set a demanding syllabus, he felt, but not an unreasonable one provided the students were properly motivated to learn. He would use the class time largely for practical application of the spells that should be learned as far as possible as homework – a necessary decision given the lack of tuition in previous years. Beside the window sat a large wooden filing cabinet. The right hand side held details of the students' history with the subject, while the right was free for the current teacher's lesson plans.

Or at least it was supposed to be free.

When Severus pulled the drawer open he was surprised to see neatly organised parchment filling the space. Frowning, he thumbed the labels. Creevey, Finnagan, Potter… most of the students' names were those of Gryffindors and he smirked as he pulled out a sheaf at random. It was clearly detention lines.

 _Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood._

He scowled. Umbridge.

Another sheaf then.

 _I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies._

He glanced at the name. Potter. It was hard to know whether to feel angrier at Umbridge or at Potter. He told himself that they deserved each other – though a small part of his head told him that subjecting Lily's son to a woman who had made a student write out Mudblood as lines was grossly wrong.

Another stack of parchment.

 _I do not belong here. I do not belong here. I do not belong here._

With a frown, he pulled out the detention slip for that particular set of parchment. He recognised the name – a first year Hufflepuff. Half-blood. Appalling at potions. The detention slip read: _Meghan repeatedly questioned the information provided in her textbooks. As somebody new to magic she should know that the wizarding world is no place for those who do not respect the education granted to them._

With a scowl Severus stuffed the note back into the filing cabinet. Odious, to be sure, but at least the woman had only made them write lines. Perhaps he should have a word with Sprout though, at least about Meghan.

"Wally." He snapped.

A small house elf appeared at his elbow, dressed neatly in a Hogwarts tea-towel.

"Master Snape sir." He squeaked.

"The contents of this filing cabinet should have been cleared in preparation for the new professor." Severus gestured to the parchment.

Wally bowed respectfully. "Master Snape sir." He said. "Hogwarts elves is not allowed to touch any items which has students' blood on sir. Not unless they is sheets or other normal –" he struggled with the vocabulary for a moment – "not unless they is benigns magics sir."

Severus was startled. "You cannot touch items imbued with blood magic?"

Wally shook his head, his great ears flapping. "It is in the Hogwartses Charter with the elves. We is not implicated and we does not do damage."

Severus nodded slowly. "So what does this have to do with this parchment?" He asked slowly, before realisation dawned. "Wally are these written in blood?"

Wally nodded, twisting his hands. "Yes master Snape sir."

Severus felt sick. He picked up the sheets that he had left on the top of the cabinet.

 _Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood._

He pulled out the detention slip. Elliot Jones. Muggleborn. Gryffindor. Second year. _For allowing words to provoke his temper. Elliot should learn to be more accepting of other students' beliefs and opinions._

 _Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood._

With a faint crack Wally disapparated. Severus barely noticed.

 _Mudblood. Mudblood_.

A twelve year old had been forced to write Mudblood in his own blood.

 _Mudblood._

Severus Snape sat back down.

* * *

The staff had already gathered for lunch by the time Severus stalked into the staff room. With only a fortnight of August remaining the heads of houses had returned to the castle – or remained there – and for once he was glad of it.

Minerva frowned at him good naturedly. "You are tardy, Severus."

He didn't scowl back, and she looked slightly alarmed.

He shook his head. "Don't worry Minerva. Nothing particularly urgent." He paused, unsure how much to say. Now that he was here, his outraged was tempered by a whisper that might be called strategy. The consequences of this revelation would be powerful, particularly if directed. "I came across Dolores' detention slips this morning."

Her lips thinned and she turned to the beans that had just appeared before her. Her voice was particularly tart as she replied. "I'd have thought you'd be gloating, given the amount of time she had Harry in there last year. She might have given him more detentions - for speaking the truth I might add - than you've ever managed!"

 _I must not tell lies._

"Potter deserves all the detentions he's received from me and more." He snapped. "In any case, 95% of the population believed him to be lying last year. What's one more?"

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "You have no sympathy for Potter's plight?"

He imagined the boy sat there, carving away at his hand and felt slightly sick. The feeling barely disappeared as the boy morphed into James Potter. James Potter, sat with that odious woman, scratching the words into the back of his hand, a pile of parchment beside him.

A pile of parchment.

Minerva was still watching him. "You need to imagine him to be any other child, Severus. He is a child. An orphaned teenage boy with no caring family, a government organised media campaign against him, and a terrorist organisation after his life."

Severus waved her words away and she looked incensed.

"How many detentions did Potter do with Umbridge?" He asked urgently.

She frowned. "More than anybody else at the school I imagine. Why?"

At least Minerva had not known, had not ignored the students. He had not really thought she might, but how had none of them realised?

 _I must not tell lies._

Severus forced his mouth into a smirk. He didn't want the whole staff table to know, not yet. Minerva scoffed and turned to Filius, leaving Severus alone.

 _I do not belong here._

He flinched.

* * *

Back in his office, Severus used his wand to sort the piles of parchment. There were two types: small piles for young or one time offenders like Meghan or Elliot, and larger piles for those repeat offenders like the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan.

And then there was Potter. Severus thought that Minerva might have been correct. Potter appeared to have served more detention than even his father had in fifth year, and that was really saying something.

His initial scan of the parchments had confirmed the assumption he had made when Wally had told him what the words were written in. They had been written using a blood quill. It had also thrown up another result - one that had made bile rise in his throat. There was a weak compulsion charm on the parchment. It activated on contact with the individual and at least explained the lack of knowledge of the torture among the staff. He couldn't imagine Potter telling him about this - but he had been appalled that nobody had known about the first years. First years!

The charm would likely to have been enough to ensure discretion on its own, but the magic would have interacted with the children's blood, strengthening the enforced silence, at least until the words had healed from their skin, and quite possibly long after.

 _I do not belong here_

 _Mudblood_

 _I will fail_

 _Blood-Traitor_

 _Slut_

 _I must respect those who are better than me_

 _I must not tell lie_ s

Given the number of detentions Potter had performed, Severus imagined that the boy had a well defined scar.

It took Severus a moment to work out what was bothering him about Potter's detentions. Had he not invaded the boy's mind on multiple occasions last year? How had he not seen the abuse? Surely, thick skinned though he was, the quill had made some impression? He frowned. He had seen personal memories from the boy, it was true. The sixth year Ravenclaw, the dog chasing him up a tree... He wondered for the first time if those were truly Potter's most secret memories.

 _Filthy little Mudblood_

He closed his eyes.

In any case, the potion that Severus had dosed himself with had washed away the compulsion charm's residual effects, and he was unwilling to leave the consequences until the hectic start of term. The detentions were summarised in a neat chart, sorted by house and year, and his urgent messages had been received. Even now he could hear the other heads of house laughing as they walked toward his classroom, Dumbledore's chuckle joining the cheerful voices.

It was nearly time.

The fire flared. Amelia Bones and Alastor Moody stepped out. Alastor's magical eye examined the room closely before settling on Severus, who could see the tension in the other man's shoulders. Severus nodded politely, internally wincing at the realisation that this room must be a difficult space for the auror too.

 _I don't belong here._

"Thank you for coming." Severus said, as his companions exchanged pleasantries and sat down. "I have an important report that you should all hear."

 _I must not tell lies._

"It concerns the detentions set by Dolores Umbridge. I believe she has harmed a number of students, primarily in houses other than my own. I am most concerned" - the word came out as an automatic sneer - "about Harry Potter."

* * *

 **Author's note**

I'm considering taking this further, but am pretty busy with exams / work / life, and I've never written anything before. Feedback much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**I neither own nor profit from the world of Harry Potter.**

I'm ashamed to say that I've often enjoyed stories on here without reviewing them, but I've really appreciated all the comments, thank you all! I'll respond when I have more time and more WiFi.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

There was a shocked silence after Severus had finished. Albus suddenly looked very old, and Severus could feel Minerva shaking beside him. After a moment, Amelia stood, her movements economical and unhurried. She moved to stand behind Severus' desk, and after a brief study picked up the parchment detailing the students affected.

"Susan." It didn't take her more than a moment to locate her niece's name, almost at the top of the list. Pomona gasped and hurried over, taking it from Amelia and running her finger down it. "It looks like almost all of Potter's little group had detentions with her" she said after a moment. Amelia quickly took the parchment back as a corner started to smoke, and Pomona visibly calmed herself. Amelia's wand vanished the fire, but Severus saw that her hand was shaking, and he guessed that her apparent calm was hiding her horror.

He nodded. "Apologies for not warning you, Amelia. I believe that all but Potter were given the line _Magic, Ministry, Mastery!_ to copy out, though the fact that many were half-bloods or pure-bloods meant that she stopped short of permanent injury."

"Unlike Mr Potter." Minerva's voice was tight with rage, and Severus realised for the first time that ice had crept from the legs of her chair and up the wall behind her, coating the stone wall. Albus seemed to notice too.

"Minerva-" he started, but she interrupted.

" _You_ are the headmaster of this school, Albus. I am deputy headmistress and our children were _tortured_! How could none of us have realised?" The ice behind her cracked loudly, splintering into dangerous looking shards, and Albus flinched, looking as though he were trying to gather his words.

Filius squeaked too. "Minerva the charm used will have been strengthened immeasurably by the inclusion of the children's blood. They could not have told us." He turned to Albus. "However I think it is fairly clear that we need to be more proactive in security and care for our pupils Albus. The last few years have seen the death of both staff and student in mysterious circumstances and though we understand that the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and your other positions within our society place your time under serious pressure, do you not think that this means you should share the burden? You told us that you had the situation with the Basilisk under control, for goodness sake, yet it was mere luck that nobody was murdered!"

"Basilisk?" asked Alastor sharply. "What Basilisk?"

Amelia scoffed at Albus. "I'd like to know more about this myself. Several years ago, Alastor, my niece and other students came home with stories of petrified peers and threats from the so-called Heir of Slytherin. Naturally-" here she glared again at the headmaster "-we believed these to be exaggerations, encouraged by Lucius Malfoy to cause trouble. When I was a student there were two _Heir of Slytherin_ hoaxes, for Merlin's sake, but if it was real!" She broke off. "Susan is at this school, Albus. I can't lose her too, you know that."

Alastor's eye swivelled around the room, pausing only in the corner where Severus knew his imprisonment to have taken place. He growled at the headmaster. "You kept a school open with a Basilisk on the loose? Why the fuck didn't you bring in the bloody aurors? Or the squad for the suppression and control of dangerous creatures?"

Albus looked ashamed. "I had set a number of traps for the beast - however none were successful. I was also wary of bringing the public's attention to the fact that both the chamber was open and that young Harry was a parsletongue. We had no chargeable 'heir' to blame for the horrors. An innocent - perhaps Mr Potter - would likely have been implicated. No - it was an unpleasant situation that ended most fortunately for all involved."

Minerva sighed. "I believe that Mr Potter still has nightmares about the creature, Albus. The dormitories don't have portraits for privacy reasons, but his dorm-mates are incautious about where exactly they worry about him."

"The boy faced the snake? He's only, what, fourteen!" Barked the auror.

"He was twelve at the time Alastor." Said Pomona. "Sixteen now."

"Twelve." Alastor shook his head. "You're bloody lucky that the boy survived Albus. Twelve! And then you didn't notice that I was locked in a goddamn trunk for nine months, nor that Umbridge was torturing your pupils?"

Albus looked to retort but Amelia beat him to it. "You will step down from your position as Chief Warlock, Albus, unless you wish to resign from the school." She fixed him with a stern glare. "You are entrusted with our children, _Professor_ , and while I trust nobody but you to keep Voldemort from gaining entry, I fear that your negligence has endangered the students. Since Susan arrived there have been mysterious deaths, kidnappings, torture, successful break-ins by supposed mass-murderers, and the first wild Basilisk seen in Britain for at least two centuries!"

Severus interjected. "Most of these incidents have been linked to Potter too, Madame Bones. Will you inform him that he must resign as a student of the school for the safety of his friends? Perhaps the _Chose One_ can concentrate on his other duty, ridding the world of the Dark Lord!"

Minerva was furious. "Harry Potter has survived rather than provoked these incidents, master Snape." Severus flinched. She hadn't called him that since his days as a pupil. "I will always regret that I have not protected Harry or the school better, particularly in recent years, and I will be resigning as Head of Gryffindor to ensure that both that duty and the position of Deputy Headmistress are given their due. However it is all of our responsibility to ensure that odd behaviour from students is noticed and attended to, and we have failed at that. You cannot blame the students." She turned to Alastor. "As Deputy Headmistress, I would like to request a comprehensive security review of the school." It was a mark of how angry she was that she had not consulted the headmaster, to whom she now looked. "I second Amelia's suggestion that you delegate more, Albus." Her voice thawed slightly. "I will take up the position of Deputy Headmistress in full, allowing you the time to concentrate on the Order as well as the school. I suggest you nominate Andromeda as your replacement as Chief Warlock. Her head for politics is second-to-none."

Alastor grunted. "Supreme War-lass? Supreme Witch?" If Amelia looked him sharply, Minerva almost appeared ready to pounce, feline in her poise. Alastor appeared to realise his mistake. "She is the best witch - best person - for the job, of course." He said hurriedly. Filius hid a chuckle behind his hand, and Pomona shared a smirk with Minerva.

Albus' whole body seemed to collapse slightly. "I believe you both to be right, of course. I had thought that by declining the position of Minister for Magic I had avoided the trap of too much power, and yet I find myself with more responsibility than I can keep up with; something I should have recognised sooner."

Severus let out a breath of relief. If truth be told, he had been unsure as to how Albus would react when the demand came for him to relinquish any of his positions. There had been a moment when the headmaster's eyes had flashed dangerously at Amelia's words, but that seemed to have faded. Having one's titles removed by one's enemies - as had happened the previous year with Supreme Mugwump and of Chief Warlock - that was almost a badge of pride. But to have them removed by one's allies? Severus knew he'd have managed with far less grace.

He spoke up. "Perhaps we could get back to the matter on hand? What is our best course of action against Madame Umbridge?"

Amelia nodded once to Albus, acknowledging his capitulation, but turned to Severus. "Madame Umbridge will never see the outside of Azkaban. The evidence in this room alone would be enough to convict her for life."

"Can we use veritaserum on her? What more might she have done that we don't yet know about?" asked Pomona.

Amelia shook her head. "Veritaserum is only used when requested by a suspect." She said. "No person may be compelled to incriminate himself or herself under current law unless the situation is classified as the highest of emergencies, though they may request that the potion be used to strengthen their testimony in court. Further, recent studies have shown that those proficient in the art of Occlumency can frequently overcome the compulsion to speak the truth, particularly when aware of the dose. I cannot condone it's use on an unknowing or unwilling participant, however much I would like to know the answers."

Severus' lip curled. "How do you expect us to win this war Amelia? Would you limit the aurors to leg-locking spells, and remove the Dementors from Azkaban on the grounds of kindness?"

She fixed him with a glare. "Without getting into detailed policy discussions, I do not believe that we should abandon due process or human rights at the first sign of violence."

Severus rolled his eyes discretely, but he knew that he was unlikely to win this argument. Not in present company. "So we have enough evidence to convict her. How about Fudge?"

"Fudge?" squeaked Flitwick. "I don't think that any of us see entirely eye-to-eye with the ex-Minister, but I doubt he knew about the quill. He's too much of a politician to directly condone that, and too much of a coward to take such offensive action."

Severus inclined his head respectfully. "That is true - but he did sign off all of Umbridge's decrees last year, and Fudge has just been publicly proved a fool regarding the return of the Dark Lord."

Alastor muttered under his breath. "Dark Lord." Severus ignored him.

"The oversight of Umbridge was with Fudge, not with Albus." He said silkily. "Surely we can cement our position and ensure that the ministry leaves the school alone with this leverage?"

Amelia raised an eyebrow but nodded. "While I hope that your inclusion of Alastor and myself this afternoon implies that we are not all to be completely distrusted, and while I am still not sure that leaving the school entirely under the control of the current administration is wise, this revelation could certainly gut Fudge. The question is whether you want to go after the ex-Minister, which would in essence be a personal vendetta as the man is disgrace already; whether you want to go after the current administration, which might fatally lose the public's remaining trust in the Ministry; or whether you have a more productive goal." Amelia looked steadily at Severus. "You all say that you want autonomy from ministry interference. Is that all?"

Severus had to admire her ambition. "Did you have anything in mind?"

She shook her head slowly. "Nothing specific. But Rufus can be intractable and this is strong leverage."

Albus nodded. "I hadn't dealt much with the new minister before he gained the title, but he is pleasingly straightforward. Do you have any insight, Alastor?"

"Rufus was a good auror, but he's impatient. Many of us in the corps are stronger in combat situations than in social situations." Minerva was unsuccessful at hiding her titter. Alastor glared at her half heartedly. "He will make a decent wartime politician, but he will struggle to control the Wizengamot. He has little knowledge of or respect for the niceties that the old families like, nor time for anybody who is not prepared to fight."

"So we want Rufus to take a back seat politically" said Minerva. "I think we can get that anyway though. If we can get Andromeda the position of Chief Warlock then the Wizengamot is in sensible hands. And I think Andromeda has a good shot. She understands the purebloods; she was brought up a Black and is a formidable witch. But she married a muggleborn. She's unquestionably on the right side of this war, but knows the tradition, the families, and the politics inside out." She shared a look with Amelia, who nodded. "But Andromeda will have to at least appear to be neutral. We need a political leader on the Light side as well, to counteract Lucius and his compatriots' remaining influence. I'd suggest we speak to Augusta."

Pomona smiled in genuine happiness. "Your group always were formidable, even at school." Amelia smirked, and Minerva looked, to Severus, like the cat who had the cream. Severus shivered, countering it with a sneer as Minerva eyed him with amusement.

"If only Dorea were here" said Amelia. "Although I can imagine her asking why it's taken us quite so long."

"If we're done with ousting the world of testosterone, might I add another suggestion?" said Severus, his voice sour. Amelia inclined her head. "What Umbridge's actions illustrate most clearly is the corruption within the ministry. This provides us with an opportunity. I believe we should demand that further corruption is investigated in all departments. We can cut off at least some of the Dark Lord's influence. I know of a number of Death Eaters and sympathisers in almost every department, and their positions have only grown stronger in the last fourteen months."

Amelia smiled. "That's a good idea."

Flitwick stood. It didn't make much difference. "I agree, but I think we can ask for more. The ministry injured Hogwarts' students. I think we can secure additional resources for the school. There are classes that haven't been run for the last twenty years because of funding cuts and obstruction from the ministry. I would like to see basic healing classes and duelling to return as a minimum. Enchanting, linguistics, and spell crafting should also be open to the upper years."

Minerva was nodding. "The curriculum has stagnated." She said. "I'd like to revamp History of Magic as well, and remove Divination as an elective. Runes would be a much more suitable subject for so many careers. I see many Gryffindors unable to progress without taking remedial runes after OWLs because they took Divination in third year." Severus resisted pointing out that if Minerva advised her students on the relative merits of the subjects before they chose their electives then this would be less of a problem, though he supposed that she had just confessed that being both Deputy Head and Head of House had been too much for her.

"Who will replace you as Head of House, Minerva?" he asked.

She pursed her lips. "I thought we could invite Remus Lupin to return." She said. He stiffened. "I appreciate that you dislike him, Severus, but he is an instinctive dueller and would make an excellent Head of House."

"I suppose that without his mutt he might be more bearable." He said sourly. Minerva glared. "Don't worry Minerva, I'll play nicely."

Alastor nodded. "Lupin would be good for the students, and it would probably benefit the boy to have a parental figure around."

"Now that we've worked out what we can get from the torture of students, should we turn our attention back to the students themselves? We can return to staffing matters in due course." Pomona said, somewhat tartly.

Amelia summoned the parchment with a flick of her wand. "We have a total of sixty-two students affected. Approximately half of those are members of Potter's defence group, and most of the remainder are muggle-born."

"We will have to make home visits, I think." Said Pomona. "We owe it to the families to give a full explanation, and we owe it to the children to recognise their experiences. I recommend that each Head of House make the relevant visits, accompanied by a healer with some training in mind-healing."

Albus nodded. "I will accompany you on the visits to those most affected. Amelia, will you and Alastor want to interview anybody or will the evidence already collected be sufficient?"

The two ministry officials looked at each other for a moment, then Amelia spoke. "Technically we have plenty of evidence to convict Umbridge. But our political goals will be far more attainable with a human interest angle, distasteful as the idea is. I recommend that interviews are recorded, and that we request that some of the students who are over-age be asked if they would give formal testimony in front of the Wizengamot."

"Potter's testimony would be the most impactful" grunted Alastor. "You said the boy probably has a permanent scar, and he's already a powerful and somewhat tragic figure in the minds of the public. On the other hand, Potter is a special case. The public think of him more as an adult than a child; they may be more outraged by the testimony of a random innocent rather than somebody so politically charged." There were nods around the room. "I would however like for Potter to be interviewed and checked by a healer as soon as possible. Those quills are savage items, and the boy has been through a lot this year."

Amelia nodded, but was distracted by a chime from the pocket watch attached to the belt of her robes. She glanced down and frowned. "We need to go, Alastor." She said, and turned to the rest of the room. "Albus, I will expect your resignation imminently, though preferably after Minerva has spoken to Andromeda." Both nodded, Albus wearily and Minerva sharply. Amelia turned to Severus. "As your students were least targeted by Umbridge I would like you to coordinate the interviews Severus." He sighed, but agreed.

Alastor raised a hand in farewell to the room at large, but paused facing Minerva. "I'll be in touch about that security scan Minerva." He said gruffly. He looked almost vindictively around the office. "Don't doubt that I will be thorough. You seem remarkably incapable of keeping out Death Eaters, Albus." The Headmaster bowed his head. Amelia waved her wand at Severus' desk and the parchments of lines were neatly sorted into conjured evidence bags along with the detention slips. She was careful not to touch the parchment with her bare hands. The bags glowed blue and, with a tap, disappeared.

"I'm sure I'll see much more of all of you over the next weeks." She said, before stepping into the fireplace. Alastor followed and the staff were silent for a moment, the parchment of names back with Severus.

Minerva sat up abruptly. "I would like to visit Harry first. The amount of time he spent in detention... I'll take Poppy and go this evening, and I'd like to bring him back here for a full examination and possibly some additional training and emotional support from Remus and Poppy."

Albus raised a hand. "I must insist that you do not, Minerva. Harry must remain at his aunt and uncle's for his own safety. We can conduct Harry's examination when he returns."

"Are you mad?" Severus stared at Albus. "He's been there all summer, what difference will a few days make?"

"Pomona joined in. "I agree Albus. Why does the child need to spend so much time with his aunt and uncle? He doesn't go home for either of the holidays - I rather get the impression he prefers it here - I vote we go and bring him to Poppy for a check-up and ideally a mind-healer as soon as possible."

Albus shook his head. "Harry has survived so far. We will schedule a check-up with Poppy for his return in September."

"Harry has survived so far?!" Minerva's accent was more pronounced than ever. "Our goal is not for Harry to survive, Albus! Our goal is for Harry to be happy and well and safe! And might I remind you that he has survived more than any child should be expected to survive."

"I agree with Minerva's point, if not the sentiment. Potter's talent for getting out of life threatening situations is only marginally less irritating than his talent for getting into them." Minerva glared at him, but turned back to the headmaster, who sighed.

"The wards are weak" he admitted. "I am wary of encouraging Harry to think of anywhere else as his home."

Filius frowned. "The wards? I think that I may be missing something here Albus."

Albus nodded. "Harry is protected from Voldemort and from his followers by a set of blood wards anchored by his mother's blood. He has to consider his aunt's home his home until he comes of age."

Pomona's voice rose. "And he feels so distant from his family that he does not automatically consider their house a home? Even though they were his only family for a decade? You don't think that that's a worrying sign?"

Severus privately thought that this was a good point. Potter had clearly spent very little time with his aunt and uncle since he started at Hogwarts, though with a sluggish feeling in his stomach it occurred to Severus that Potter's aunt was Petunia Evans. Still. How bad could even she be to a child she herself had raised?

"Harry's family are not the warmest people, it is true, and they have found it difficult to come to terms with the idea of magic, as happens in many muggle families." Albus' tone was placating. "But I see no reason to put Harry's life in danger because he prefers to spend the holidays with his friends than with his cousin."

Minerva's voice was strained. "I suggest that, in that case, we make a home visit."

Albus shook his head. "I have Order members watching the house, but I promised Petunia that there would be no other involvement from our kind." He looked pointedly at Severus and Minerva. "I also have specific wards up to keep out anamagi, as Pettigrew is still on the loose, and the blood wards that protect against Voldemort also serve to keep out those with his mark, as they sufficiently recognise his magic. I must ask you both to wait to speak to Harry until he returns to school."

Minerva pursed her lips but nodded. Severus nodded stiffly also. Why Albus couldn't perform a home visit himself was beyond him, but he supposed the headmaster must have his reasons, and it _was_ only a short time until term was due to begin.

The remainder of the meeting dealt with the logistics of the home visits, and of the proposed staff changes. There was in fact only one Slytherin on the list - a third year half-blood who had largely passed below Severus' radar. He couldn't imagine what the child had done to provoke Umbridge. The other teachers though... it was going to be a difficult week, particularly for Minerva.

"Thank you for alerting us to this, Severus." Minerva sighed as she left. "The only thing stopping me from flying to the Ministry tonight is the idea that we might help the children more by strategising." She lowered her voice, though Albus had already disappeared, muttering about the need to appraise Poppy of the situation. "I am concerned that Albus is not taking the news about Harry seriously either. I realise that you dislike the child Severus, but even you were concerned about him at lunch."

Severus shifted uncomfortably. "I wouldn't go so far as _concerned_ , Minerva."

She eyed him knowingly. "As you say."

"What do you want me to do Minerva?" He said stiffly. "Neither of us can enter the property, and while I would rather get Potter's drama out of the way before we have classes to worry about I can't see how another week at his family's home will cause an emergency of greater than usual proportions."

Minerva patted him on the arm. "I can't see any way to remove Potter, but please try to consider that he is _not his father._ " Her voice was low. "He is Lily's son too, and she would be horrified at his life thus far, as am I." Her voice broke slightly.

He looked down. "Fine." He muttered sulkily. "I'll try."


	3. Chapter 3

**I neither own nor profit from the world of Harry Potter.**

 **Also : I have taken a bit of time to make a reasonably comprehensive plan and write a bunch of chapters in advance, but life keeps getting busier... I have a full time job, demanding exams, and I've just started seeing somebody. For this reason I'm not going to commit to a posting schedule, but I absolutely do intend to finish this (and if I ever do abandon it I'll let you know).**

:)

* * *

Andromeda Tonks, nee Black, lived a comfortable life worlds away from the one in which she had been brought up. The house was large, with an extensive garden that Minerva assumed was still full of potions ingredients and magical creatures. Inside it was neat but cosy. With a pang, Minerva thought of Grimmauld Place. Why could Sirius not have stayed here?

Ted retuned with the bottle of wine and glasses and set them down on the table. He grinned at her.

"Anything else you want Professor? I'm sure we have a tin of shortbread somewhere." She narrowed her eyes and he held his hands up. "I'm off out" he said. "Got an appointment with a few pints at the local." He lowered his voice. "Listen professor. We both know that Andy doesn't trust Albus an inch, but Dora talks to me, probably more than she should. Let me know if there's anything I can do for the order."

Minerva's eyebrows rose. "I'm sure we can think of something, thank you Ted, though I do suggest that you tell your wife."

"There were footsteps coming downstairs. Ted winked at her, and picked up his coat. "See you Minnie!" He said.

"She narrowed her eyes at him. "Sirius was bad enough, Edward, and if you think you can take up where he and James left off-!"

"Andromeda appeared at the top of the stairs, the formal robes simple, yet a contrast to Ted's Muggle shirt and trousers.

"He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "And get set the number of lines they had to write out? I think I'll pass, professor!"

"She flinched at the mention of lines, and Andromeda noticed. "Is everything alright Minerva?" She asked. "Your owl was unexpected, though of course welcome."

"Minerva smiled tightly. Amelia had cautioned the staff against mentioning the blood quill to anybody not involved in the investigation. "I am well thank you Andromeda. I am grateful that we could meet tonight."

"Andromeda bowed her head. "I confess that I am intrigued - and not unhappy that Nymphadora has left school. Your owl gave me an unfortunate flashback." Her voice was dry and Ted chuckled, presumably remembering the unusual number of scrapes that his daughter had found herself in. He gave his wife a kiss on her cheek and slipped out with a bow, leaving the two witches alone.

"Andromeda gestured to an armchair and both of them sat, a flick of the hostess' wand making the wine pour itself into two crystal glasses.

"Are you well Andromeda?" Minerva asked. The younger witch looked as collected as ever, but there was a hint of tiredness around the eyes that spoke of sleepless nights.

"My only daughter is running around fighting Death Eaters on the orders of a chaotic and incompetent ministry and my husband only survived the last war because I used blood magic of the kind that the so-called Light refuses, hypocritically, to outwardly contemplate." Minerva grimaced, thinking of the wards around the Dursley home. Andromeda seemed to misread her expression. "You know as well as I do that Molly Prewett's clock is made with the kind of family magic - blood magic - that she would have me, an ex-Black, condemned for."

Minerva nodded tiredly. "Self-rightiousness is certainly unsociable, though I do not doubt that many of the Black family's uses of Blood Magic have been used with far less alturistic intention."

Andromeda sipped her wine and Minerva sighed. She might be the first to criticise her own family, but Andromeda had been brought up a Black. Blacks did not allow criticism of their own - Sirius had very much been the exception rather than the rule.

She decided to get straight to the point. "Albus is stepping down as Chief Warlock." She said baldly, and hid her amusement at seeing the usually composed Andromeda almost choke on her wine. The other woman patted her mouth with a pale handkerchief before fixing Minerva with a pointed stare.

"Why?"

"There has been discussion amongst the staff, in consultation primarily with Amelia Bones, and Dumbledore has recognised that he perhaps has more pressing items on his agenda." Said Minerva carefully. She knew that she could not reveal the details of a criminal investigation, but she also knew that Andromeda was too sharp to be satisfied with any less. Indeed, she would have made a poor successor if she had.

"He's been ousted?" Andromeda almost looked smug.

"He has agreed."

"Who is to replace him? Madame Bones would be a strong choice, but I was under the impression that she enjoyed her work too much to want to take on additional duties?"

"We thought you might throw your hat - so to speak - into the ring."

"Andromeda's brows rose and she leaned back, setting her glass on a side-table and observing Minerva.

"Me?"

Minerva leant forward. "Amelia agrees with me. We want somebody who understands the values and worlds of the Purebloods, but who does not sympathise with Voldemort. There are very few people, as I'm sure you realise, who would not be considered unforgivably partisan."

"You know that I won't be formally allied with Albus Dumbledore."

"We don't expect you to be. I'm going to ask Augusta to reform the old Longbottom alliance. She'll be the counter to Lucius Malfoy's bloc, but Andromeda we need a proper Wizengamot. One that everybody respects. Who better to preside over it than yourself, with ties and disagreements with both sides?"

"Surely the Pure-bloods will consider the reformation of the Longbottom Alliance, as well as a 'Muggle-lover' such as myself, as a clear takeover of the chamber by Dumbledore?"

"They will see it as a show of strength by those who oppose Voldemort." Minerva said tartly. "But Albus himself will have no more power than they, and your dislike of the Headmaster is widely noted. Augusta, too, has never bent her will, though she has been recently been a staunch supporter of the Headmaster, it is true." She finished her wine. "I would argue though, that that loyalty could be considered as much Harry's as Albus', and the child at least is blameless of Albus' crimes, except perhaps for a general prejudice of Slytherins."

Andromeda sighed. "May I think on it? I should discuss this with Ted at least. I'm not convinced that making a public figure of myself - of my family - is a good idea right now."

"You know that the war will come anyway, and that the our best chance - the best chance for your family - is if we can cut off the funding and political power sooner rather than later?"

"It's a war being fought by children!"

Minerva flinched back. "What exactly do you mean?"

"I visited Sirius, Minerva, last year. Dora knew that he was innocent and he - Merlin, what that prison did to him. But he told me about Harry, you know. Albus has been pulling and pushing at him, at all of them. Their little Marauders - where are they now? The McKinnons? The Prewetts? Albus Dumbledore recruited in a school, don't try to deny it."

"Political tensions spill over and children take notice, you know that! You-Know-Who was recruiting too, of course the older children joined up. I tried to dissuade as many of them as possible, but the truth is we needed them Andromeda. The Death Eaters held so much power, and they were of age!"

"So nobody could have stopped six underage children fighting death eaters at the ministry this summer? And your excuse is that You-Know-Who was recruiting in the school? Then who should have stopped him but Albus Dumbledore? Did he ever check students for Dark Marks? I know for a fact that Severus Snape and little Reggie were inducted as soon as they became of age!"

Minerva looked slightly ashamed. "That has not happened, no."

"What about reaching out to the Slytherins then? Of course we are more likely to have familial connections to Blood Supremacists - so why ostracise us further? Why allow antiquated traditions like arranged marriages or disinheritance to run rampant, as though change is impossible?"

Minerva bristled slightly. "It has been a trying few years, Andromeda. I appreciate your concerns and I will raise them at the school - but honestly it is difficult enough preventing serious injury between Slytherins and Gryffindors most of the time, particularly in this political climate."

Andromeda smirked suddenly. "I seem to remember sending a number of Gryffindors to the hospital wing myself."

"Not that you were ever caught."

Andromeda smiled.

"What did you mean about arranged marriages?" Asked Minerva. "You escaped yours well enough."

"I wasn't talking about myself." She said coolly. "The point stands though. I will discuss the position with Ted when he returns and I will owl you tomorrow with my decision. I won't deny that it is a tempting offer, particularly if it does not come with a leash held by the Headmaster."

Minerva shook her head. "It does not." She sensed that she had been dismissed. "I look forward to hearing from you, Madame Tonks."

Andromeda bowed formally, then took the older witch's hand as they stood. "It feels" she said "as though you are stepping up your involvement somewhat at the school." Minerva said nothing. "Perhaps with some sense in charge we may have a chance in this war."

"I hope that we may soon have strong leadership in all areas of public life, Andromeda."

"Augusta, you say? She has always had strong opinions."

"Until tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

* * *

That meeting had been several days before. Now it was late in the day and Minerva had at last returned to her office. She had spent the morning interviewing new History of Magic teachers. Given that the majority of Hogwarts-educated witches and wizards had been taught by Binns, many of the candidates were graduates of either international or alternative schools, and thus unfamiliar to Minerva.

She had been unexpectedly impressed by their calibre. Hogwarts had long attracted the majority of traditional pure-bloods, and the hiring biases at the ministry meant that it was Hogwarts students who were best represented within the wizarding community. Indeed, there had long been a narrative that the alternative schools fostered some kind of unpatriotic or substandard education, which explained the recourse of many of them to private or foreign employment. For the first time, Minerva questioned this assumption.

The best of them had been a young man educated in Manchester. He was probably in his late twenties and had no teaching experience outside of private tutoring, but he had been engaging and knowledgeable, and had already prepared an outline of lesson plans. They were a mixture of magical and muggle, and ran from an overview of more ancient communities to the start of the last Wizarding War.

"I don't think it would be wise to teach an ongoing war as history." He had said. "I imagine that studying the lead up may allow for organic discussion or contemporary issues, but I am wary of confronting the issue directly as though objectivity were a possibility."

"Don't worry, Mr Southall." Minerva had said dryly. "I daresay the war will make it into your classroom whether you want it to or not." She looked down his proposed timetable. "Particularly if you ask the fifth year Slytherins to consider the factors exploring the relative lack of innovation in magical versus non-magical communities since 1830."

"My classroom?" He had asked cheekily. "Do I have the job then?"

And he was hired.

Lunch had followed, and that had taken place at a small restaurant in Hogsmead. Augusta Longbottom and Harold Abbot had met her there to discuss the resurgent political alliance. Minerva had, to no great surprise, found her old friend keen to take up the political burden. The last years had seen the Longbottom family retreat into itself. Augusta was actually the second youngest active member of her house, and all of her energy for some years had been spent looking after her family. Not only did Neville and his parents require constant care, particularly when Neville was younger, but her own siblings and elderly relatives were close to insane themselves, and far less tractable. But the involvement of Neville in the fight at the Department of Mysteries earlier that summer had left Augusta simultaneously proud of her grandson and scared for him. The estates, she determined, were wealthy enough that carers could be brought in to deal with her relatives and Augusta could take back the political leadership that her husband and then her son had occupied.

"We've had a very positive response from the old families, as well as some newer Wizengamot members that we have reached out to." Augusta had said, looking sideways at Minerva. "Many of them feel, somewhat suddenly, that somebody should stand up to the ministry, and that they want in." She paused. "A number have even hinted at corruption and illegalities."

Harold's fists had clenched, but, like Augusta, he was unable to speak of the investigation into Umbridge. Each person interviewed, along with their families, had had to sign a standard document prepared by Amelia's department, and while the consequences of the contract were far less severe than, say, an unbreakable vow, the courts would be notified of any breaches of confidentiality or sharing of information.

"I think we were all getting somewhat impatient regardless." He ground out. "After little Ced was killed last year, and the ruckus at the Ministry? The ministry stalled for a year over the return of You-Know-Who, and booting out Fudge hardly fixes the problem."

"We're meeting officially tonight." Said Augusta. "We need to clarify our positions on various issues. I imagine that the gist will be the same as it used to be, with an added emphasis on taking a strong stance on domestic terrorism, but we want to be sure about our policy suggestions on more gritty issues too – including muggle relations, dangerous creatures, and business rates. It is better to be consistent and united from the start."

Minerva nodded. "Dangerous creatures?"

"The old alliance took a fairly conservative stance on creature rights. House-elves and Werewolves were there to be controlled or used, and often put down." Augusta looked uncomfortable. "While I still find myself to be more old fashioned than Neville, he has been persuasive this summer. I understand that Remus Lupin taught him several years ago, and while I would have complained to yourself or to Albus had I known of his affliction, there are few professors about whom Neville is more complementary."

"Hannah too. She was devastated when he left, and had a massive row with her mother about warding the house with silver and crucifixes."

Minerva smiled. "I confess that, had I not visited eleven-year-old Remus myself many times after the full moon, I might never have changed my mind about werewolves."

"We're less sure about the house eves." Harold said. "I understand that a muggle-born girl at the school has been campaigning for their freedom, but I don't think she appreciates the way that house-elf bonding works, or the impact that separation from wizarding society might have for house elf magic."

"I agree." Said Minerva. "The campaign was the talk of the staffroom for some time. We thought it might prove a learning curve. Miss Granger is infrequently wrong, but every precocious child must fail at something."

"I have had a look through our laws however" said Amelia "and there are no protections in place for house elves facing abuse or for those who wish to seek new or alternative employment. Nor are there any records of any elves being consulted regarding their rights or wants. My feeling is that Department as a whole should be revamped: our dealings with the centaurs, for example, are atrocious."

"Hogwarts would certainly appreciate that. You have no idea how difficult it was for Albus to reclaim Dolores from the herd in the forest, and I understand that they are furious even at Hagrid."

"We'll certainly take that into account."

The meeting had continued, with largely administrative matters. Minerva herself was not going to get involved with politics directly, but she appreciated that the members of the prospective alliance had between them a number of children at Hogwarts, and that they would likely need reassurance that measures were being put in place to better protect them going forward.

After leaving the restaurant, the true work of the day had begun. Severus had provided her with a list of Gryffindors along with times and locations of Gryffindors to visit. Although Remus would be taking over her duties as Head of House from the beginning of the new school year, Minerva knew that she owed it to her students and their parents to explain why the school - and she - had failed them.

First on the list today had been little Elliot Jones. He had been a strong student from the beginning, showing promise particularly in Herbology and Charms, but had a bad habit of getting into fights - the physical as much as the magical. Minerva had had to speak with him about it.

She winced as she remembered the meeting with his mother. His siblings - only one of whom had showed any signs of magical ability so far - had been sent out to play in the park opposite the house, and she and the mind-healer, a young woman named Sian, had sat with Elliot and his mother in the front room.

While the mother had been distraught, Elliot had been sullen. Minerva had checked, and found that Elliot had only had one such detention, but it seemed to have made an impression.

"It was just about stupid name calling." He had said to his mother. She had asked why he had been given a detention in the first place. "Don't worry about it."

Minerva had taken Elliot aside and had set up some basic safety wards for his home. He had nearly cried with relief.

And that had just been the first visit. Minerva wasn't sure which kind were worse, if she was honest. Families like Elliot's were bewildered and upset, but generally didn't understand what had happened, and their children were unaware exactly how illegal Umbridge's actions had been. They were also generally kept in the dark about quite how much danger they themselves were in, and quite frankly she couldn't blame the children for hiding how helpless they truly were.

She had started to set up a modified version of the trace around most of the homes, explaining what she was doing to the children. If any magic were detected in the vicinity the Order should know. A fourth year boy who had acted out increasingly during the year, though not usually in Umbridge's lessons, had sobbed. It had not really occurred to Minerva how much her students were affected by the outbreak of war. There had been a number of older students - muggle-born and otherwise - who had come for her or Filius for advice the previous year regarding warding and protection, but they had mostly been students who were likely to join the order and who were of-age. She had assumed, clearly wrongly, that younger children would be left out of the conflict, and would barely notice it over their studies.

The other families were the wizarding families, and they generally understood quite how bad the situation at Hogwarts had got. Filius had privately alerted her of two Ravenclaw parents who were considering making claims against the school, and expected more. Between the two of them they hoped that the criminal trial and culpability of the Ministry would redirect their ire, but she was sure that a number of them would want a personal update.

And on that subject, there was a knock at the door.

A flick of her wand saw it open to admit Amelia and the other Heads of Houses.

"No Albus?" She asked curiously.

"Albus will attend the trial as a member of the Wizengamot if he is not questioned in person." Said Amelia. "It would be wise, he thought, if he were not cognizant of additional facts ahead of time."

Severus sneered. "Dumbledore doesn't want facts ahead of time? He's embarrassed. Of course he doesn't want to hear about the consequences of his inaction!"

Minerva winced. There was probably truth to that. The five of them arranged themselves comfortably around the fire and helped themselves to tea and shortbread.

"Severus, please would you begin." Said Amelia. She had a small dictation quill that she set upon a parchment on a coffee table beside her. Severus eyed it warily. "Don't worry, it will not be used in court without my - and your - permission."

Severus scowled. "We have managed to speak to all of the non-Gryffindors." He said. "And of the Gryffindors, we have visited around eighty percent and have timetabled home visits for all but Potter."

"Why the delay?" Asked Flitwick. "Other than Mr Potter, that is?"

"Some students are abroad, particularly those with muggle familes." Said Minerva. "Additionally, I can only visit so many families each day, and Umbridge targeted Gryfindors, it seems."

"It is difficult not to." Muttered Severus, to outraged glares. "Ignore that, I suppose. Therefore, against excluding Mr Potter, we have spoken to those students for whom the punishment was most... prolonged. Given the similarities of the testimonies gathered I feel that we are unlikely to gain any more significant evidence for the trial, though we should certainly talk with every family before school starts."

"Good." Said Amelia briskly. "I'd like to personally thank Pomona for visiting my brother. He floo-called me immediately, and while he certainly wishes to press charges against _somebody_ , he understands that the children were unable to alert you to the problem, and that your hands were thus tied. He said that Susan broke down when she realised that nobody else had known about it."

"She thought that it was sanctioned?" gasped Pomona. "That we were allowing it?"

"We have allowed a lot." Squeaked Filius. "These are dark times, and we certainly gave the children no confidence that we could stand up to the Ministry last year, or to Umbridge. They must have believed that it was ordered and that we obeyed."

Amelia nodded. "The personal reassurance will do as much good as the mind-healer, I think. Moving on, we would like the testimonies of a selection of children at the trial. These can be written, viewed in a pensive, kept anonymous, or be made in person."

"I have a number of candidates." Said Minerva. "Most of my older students, once they had taken Severus' potion and could talk freely about their experiences, expressed a desire for revenge. Lee Jordan in particular would make a strong witness, and he experienced prolonged exposure to the quill. Alicia Spinett, Angelina Johnson, the Weasley twins... all have now graduated and could appear in person."

Pomona spoke. "I agree that Lee Jordan would be an excellent witness, and I think all who want to tell their story should be allowed to." She paused. "I have a thirteen year old with a mother in the ministry. She doesn't want her child to appear but she wants the testimony out there."

Severus looked thoughtful. "One of the few Slytherins to be punished was little Astoria Greengrass. Her father was livid, and was prepared to challenge either Fudge, Albus or Dumbledore to a duel over his daughter's spilled blood. I imagine that he is angry enough to share her testimony, and many of the Pure-bloods would be far more outraged by a Greengrass in Slytherin being tortured than a litany of muggle-borns and brash fully-grown Gryffindors."

"Speak with him again please Severus." Amelia said. "And please could all of you request that any students who wish to testify meet with me before the trial, in the presence of yourselves or another guardian if the child is underage. The trial date is set for the 28th August, and it is due to be closed to all parties not directly involved, with the exception of a selection of carefully vetted reporters."

There were a few more details of the trial to go through, as well as the slim possibility that any of them would be called to testify, and Minerva briefly alerted her colleagues to the urgent need for them to provide children at the school with some form of protection for their families.

"They must be terrified." She said, quietly. "Too young to protect their loved ones, yet old enough to have seen a student die during a school competition, and to know the possibilities."

Amelia agreed. "I might see if Arthur Weasey's department can do something about it." She said. "They'd be ideally placed to interact with the families, and frankly it would be better if the auror or hitwizard departments were alerted to any disturbances. We can't have you personally responsible for all of the students' families, and we'd like to know where the Death Eaters are anyway."

Minerva nodded, relieved, and noticed with no small happiness that all the tea had been drunk, and Amelia was packing up her bag. "If that's all?" She asked. "Only it's been a long day."

Flitwick patted her elbow on his way out. "We're all learning, Minerva. Take heart." Her colleague was infrequently introspective and the lack of levity in his voice was unusual. It crept back in though. "Recognising that there's a problem is the first step, as they say!"


	4. Chapter 4

**I neither own nor profit from the world of Harry Potter.**

Severus entered the Ministry early on the morning of the 28th. Amelia had summoned him the day before and informed him that he was to give evidence regarding the scope of the abuse and his discovery of the evidence.

"We're concerned that some of the Pure-bloods knew about the quill." The note had read. "Alastor is running into serious difficulties finding out where Umbridge acquired the item in the first place. If you stand against the abuse - and champion the non-muggleborn victims - we are hoping that at least the lower level Death Eaters and sympathisers will realise that they too can oppose Umbridge without directly working against Voldemort."

Indeed, Severus had been contacted the night before by Goyle, who wanted to know whether it was the Dark Lord's doing, and by Lucius, who in a roundabout way hinted that his business was being looked into. Amelia seemed to be onto something, though he sincerely doubted that anybody else knew about Goyle's owl. Lucius would have put a stop to it for sure. He had ignored both.

So now he was here, giving his wand to be weighed and making his way downstairs to Alastor's department, ready to be escorted to the witness bench. The ministry was busy. The trial had been announced three days prior, per the Wizengamot rules, though all that was officially known was that Albus was to step down. That alone had almost caused a panic in the Atrium of the Ministry. Dumbledore himself had been forced to intercede and personally announce that it was so that he could devote more of his time to his school and to the fight against Voldemort that he was stepping back: that it was a show of strength rather than weakness.

When he arrived in the auror department, Severus found Alastor in a bad mood. "This way Snape." He growled. "I'm to brief you before they go down. Andromeda should be elected as we speak, but just in case somebody else gets the spot we need a pre-recorded version of your evidence, and I have a couple of points that I want clarity on regarding the curses." "Certainly." Said Severus. He ran through his testimony succinctly. "You could say I've almost done your job for you, Auror Moody." He ended silkily.

Alastor looked at him with dislike. "You were a Death Eater." He said bluntly. "And now you're supposedly a spy, yet you failed to notice that a fellow Death Eater was impersonating me for nine months even when he was stealing polyjuice from your fucking stores. Discovering that torture was occurring under your nose months after the fact does not constitute you doing my bloody job, no." Severus winced. The dig had been an obvious mistake. A small paper bird fluttered onto Alastor's shoulder and he opened it clumsily. "Damnit Bones." He muttered. "Use fucking aeroplanes like normal people why can't you." Severus waited as the auror read the missive. Moody hoisted himself to his feet using his cane. "Amelia says that they're letting people in for the trial now. We should go." Severus nodded and followed Moody to the lifts.

The trial was held in courtroom ten, and it was full. The Wizengamot were all in attendance, marked out by their purple robes. There were the two legal teams, the investigative branch of the auror department, and then the victims and families. Not many were in the courtroom. Severus knew that most wanted to avoid both subjecting their children to such an ordeal and broadcasting their bloodlines and alliances before so many Death Eaters and sympathisers.

Best represented was Potter's group. Not only were they on average older, they were more likely to have a magical parent than many of Umbridge's younger victims. Lee Jordan, four of the Weasleys, Hermione Granger, and all three of the Gryffindor chasers sat furthest forward. A smattering of others were sat a little further back with their families, though as Severus watched, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein moved forward to sit beside Hermione, who turned to them, gesturing at a large book she had on her lap. Severus was willing to bet that it was some kind of legal volume, though what the girl hoped it would contribute during the trial he could not imagine.

He was clearly one of the last to arrive, and he realised as he did so that the fallout from Albus' departure was ongoing. Theodore and Lucius stood together, with Lucius and a Flint shouting in turns with a Macmillan, who was red in the face. Elsewhere furious conversation had broken out and the hall was filled with sound. Albus and Andromeda stood together, not looking at each other, in the centre of the floor.

"It's clearly Albus Dumbledore on trial!" Shouted Flint. "I recognise some of those children in the witness box, he's clearly stepped down because he can't judge himself!" Severus noted that Lucius did not correct Flint's assumption regarding the trial, but was looking closely at Severus as he arrived.

"Albus Dumbledore on trial in front of the Wizengamot?" Shouted Macmillan. "Have you lost your mind, sir?"

"Whoever is on trial" Lucius' voice rose angrily above the others. "The person presiding over the Wizengamot should be a wizard of standing! Not a muggle-loving cunt who shut herself away from decent society for two decades!"

"How dare you?" Macmillan rounded on Malfoy. "Madame Tonks-"

"Tonks! How on earth is a-"

"What a goddamn mess." Grunted Alastor. "Polifuckingticians. How many do you think the pair of us could stun before any of them noticed.

Across the floor Scrimgeour roared "Enough!"

Andromeda stood tall and there was a sudden silence. "I have been elected" she said calmly "by a cross section of the Wizengamot and of the Ministry. I thank Theodore of the House of Nott for his challenge. I thank Albus of the House of Dumbledore for his long leadership." There was a grumbling of applause. "And I thank the Wizengamot for their faith in me." She took the chain from Albus' outstretched hands. "May this body politic comprise those of courage, strategy, knowledge, and kindness." She said calmly. "And live in harmony as though under one roof." She stepped up to the throne-like seat that the Headmaster had vacated. "May this Wizengamot find wisdom - as much a product of debate as of any diadem." She bowed low before the assembled witches and wizards. Severus could see Miss Granger mouthing the words along with Andromeda. "And may I serve this Wizengamot as the elder wand serves its caster: with true aim and righteous power."

There was a short pause and then, led by Augusta Longbottom on one side of the chamber and Theodore Nott on the other, the Wizengamot bowed to Andromeda. She placed the chain around her neck and stood while the courtroom settled.

"This way." Said Alastor, and took them to the back of the witness box. Severus sat.

Amelia Bones took the centre of the floor. "As was announced before Madame Tonks was sworn in." She said. "The Department of Magical Law has called an emergency criminal trial which the Wizengamot must judge."

Andromeda nodded. "We are gathered, and will attend today, Madame Justice."

Amelia smiled. "The accused is Dolores Jane Umbridge, former Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic and former High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." There was an audible gasp around much of the courtroom. The parents of children affected sat grim faced, and a few others - notably Lucius Malfoy - looked unsurprised, but the clearly the news had not leaked too far. Even Andromeda looked shocked. Severus had assumed that Minerva had given the new Chief Warlock some hints as to the nature of the case, but apparently she had not. Most flustered was Percy Weasley, who sat slightly behind Rufus Scrimgeour and appeared to be trying to use the new minister to shield himself from his family.

The doors opened and Umbridge was escorted to the seat of chains in the centre of the courtroom, flanked by Kingsley Shacklebolt and an auror unfamiliar to Severus. She was dishevelled, her pink suit grubby and creased, and she looked furious. She was placed in the chair where, with a tap of Amelia's wand chains wrapped around the woman's limbs. Severus realised for the first time that the woman was under a silencing charm.

Amelia took one side of the courtroom, while a young man that Severus didn't recognise took the other. He looked nervous as he spoke up. "I am the legal counsel for the defence, erm, Harry Briarfield." He said nervously.

Amelia's voice was crisp. "I will be the prosecutor." There was a further outbreak of muttering. It was unusual but not unheard of for the prosecution to be handled by the ministry department. More often than not the injured party contacted their own lawyer.

Alastor got up from beside Severus and made his way to the floor. His wooden leg echoed as he made his way up the steps to Andromeda's chair, where he presented her with a sheaf of parchment. She took a brief moment to read the cover before her face grew stony and she tapped it with her wand. A duplicate copy appeared before every member of the Wizengamot, and Severus heard cries of outrage as they too scanned the charges.

Andromeda glared down at Umbridge for a moment, fury clear in her eyes, before she raised her wand. An invisible barrier leapt up in front of the stands, effectively separating the Wizengamot from those to take part in the trial.

For Severus it was suddenly very quiet. He could make out the muttering of the children and their parents, alternately impatient and reassuring. Umbridge was fidgeting with her hemline, and Moody was tapping away beside him.

"Fudge knows." Moody's voice was gruff and quiet. "He's under caution. I don't doubt a few more do too." Severus nodded and the auror carried on. "We're not sure what Rufus is going to do, what side he'll come down on. He was a good auror and he's a sharp man, but he won't be seen grovelling for Fudge's crimes. This could get nasty."

Before Severus could get any more information, there was a flash of light behind the barrier. The Wizengamot members were sitting back down, and as he watched, a Andromeda cancelled her spell. The courtroom came alive once more.

"Dolores Jane Umbrige." Andromeda's voice was furious. "You stand accused of using an illegal blood quill to torture numerous students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You further stand accused of preventing these students from discussing their ordeal and therefore of obstructing justice and freedom of speech." There were cries of outrage, and many of the faces were peering in horror at the teenagers who sat in the witness benches.

"A blood quill!" Severus heard Theodore Nott exclaim in horror. "You used a blood quill on children?" Severus watched as Nott flicked further through the evidence - and grew quieter. Others were less reserved, and the lighter and neutral half of the room in particular were stood up in outrage.

"The agenda will proceed as follows." Said Andromeda. "The witnesses will be called in the following order, and questioned first by the defence, then the prosecution; Severus Snape; Lee Jordan; Katie Bell; Angelina Johnson; Fred Weasley; Poppy Pomfrey; Darren Hartland; and Cornelius Fudge." Severus knew that Hartland was one of the healers who had accompanied Minerva on some of her visits. "There will then be a pensive statement by Astoria Greengrass." There was a visible reaction to this name - the Greengrass family was a well known Pureblood family, and not even the eldest daughter Daphne was of age yet. "Following this, Madame Umbridge will be questioned. We will then have the chance to ask our own questions of the prosecution, though not of the witnesses, and we will then vote. I will remind the members of this courtroom that, as the case concerns minors, they will be unable to speak freely of what is discussed here."

Amelia stood. "My thanks, Chief Warlock." There was a shuffling in the seat, though nobody challenged the appropriateness of the title. "I call Severus Snape, witness for the prosecution, to the floor."

Eyes upon him, Severus stood and smoothed his robes. He felt oddly exposed on the floor, though it had been many years since he himself had stood accused. An echo of the fear ran through him, and he suppressed it viciously.

"Please tell us of your discovery, Professor Snape."

"I have recently been appointed Defence Instructor at Hogwarts." He said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ronald Weasley almost jump out of his seat, held back by Miss Granger. He suppressed a smirk: the appointment had not been revealed to the students ahead of time, then. "I discovered that Madame Umbridge had kept all of the lines set as detention in a filing cabinet and enquired as to why the parchment had not been removed by the House Elves. I was informed that blood magic must be left alone by the Elves, and so deduced that a blood quill had been used."

The council for the defence was scribbling - though surely he had read Severus' testimony. As Severus continued his narrative he unobtrusively watched the gallery. Miss Granger too was taking notes - though she seemed to be paying more attention to the Wizengamot than to his words. The other students were either staring at Severus or at Umbridge with almost equal dislike.

There was a silence when he had finished.

Briarfield stood. "Master Snape." He said quietly, shuffling his papers nervously. "I, erm, Severus Snape, why were you able to break the compulsion charm so easily? Do you really suggest that students forced to carve into their own flesh would not have more willpower and reason than yourself? Why didn't any of them break it?"

Severus' eyes narrowed. Umbridge's defence must have been chosen for his incompetence to ensure that Umbridge, not Fudge, got the brunt of the blame. He sneered. "I was able to break the compulsion firstly because my blood was not a part of the spell, secondly because I am a highly skilled wizard trained in the arts of the mind and therefore able to recognise interference with my own, and thirdly because I am a Potions Master and therefore entirely cognizant of the procedure for ridding oneself of the compulsion." He raised an eyebrow and the young man actually backed away slightly. "None of this is even slightly related to "will"."

There was more muttering, but it quickly died down as the red faced lawyer searched desperately for another hole to exploit. "As a teacher at the school, why were you not aware of this earlier? We understand that a minority of the students were in your own house. Do you not have a duty of care to your students? How did you fail to notice their pain?"

A faint flush touched Severus' neck - but Alastor had warned him that the defence might take this route. "I do." He said quietly. "And I am appalled beyond measure that we on the staff did not find out much sooner. That is inexcusable, and it will take time for us to repair the trust that this society puts in us. There are, however, mitigating factors. Firstly, the aforementioned compulsion charm. Secondly and more importantly however, the authority with which the defendant meted out these punishments was seemingly limitless. The ministry provided Madame Umbridge with authority to disallow staff and student from conversing of subjects not directly related to their subject." His voice was a sneer. "We were constrained by the ministry's protocols, and did what we could under the circumstances."

There was an outbreak of muttering. The young man grasped it. "You would like to curtail the ministry's authority?" Severus saw smirks on the faces of a number of prominent purebloods.

He chose his words carefully, and delivered with enough distain to silence a Mandrake. "I would curtail Minister Fudge's authority, but he no longer has any."

"There was a snort from the gallery but he did not look up.

"You would accuse Minister Fudge?" "Madame Umbridge is on trial today. I would think it remiss of her defence to neglect the source of her authority."

Umbridge's counsel seemed to glance up and, apparently gaining some kind of approval - though from exactly who Severus could not work out - proceeded. "Are you a Death Eater, Severus Snape?"

"I was cleared in this very courtroom."

"I speak in the present tense."

"I am cleared of all charges."

"I suggest" he turned his back on Severus and spoke to the Wizengamot at large, seeming to gain in confidence. He did not look at Umbridge. "I suggest that Severus Snape, whose Dark Mark was revealed in this very courtroom, seeks to destabilise the Ministry for the benefit of his master!" There were murmurings of disquiet. "He knows that discord will only further the goals of the so-called Dark Lord, and so instead of seeking to place the blame on a single perpetrator who, we must assume, did not know the ins and outs of arcane laws and rules banning obscure magical artefacts, he sees an opportunity to limit rather than strengthen this institution!"

Severus just managed not to snort. As though a blood quill could be an innocent mistake. At least this cleared up the question of exactly who was paying him.

Scrimgeour's eyes were cold as they looked on Severus, and he knew that the Minister was likely to be a hard sell, as all aurors were. Briarfield gestured in a self-satisfied way for Amelia to take over. She did so, leaving her parchment at a small conjured desk.

"Master Snape." He nodded politely. "Could you tell me what Hogwarts has done since finding out about Madame Umbridge's actions?"

"We have contacted, as far as possible, all students involved." Weasley and Granger looked at each other, and Miss Granger shook her head. "They have been assessed by mind-healers who will continue to provide support when the students return next week. I can confirm that I have personally visited Miss Greengrass and her peers. We have also re-written the parameters of approved punishment and the recourse that students have when they feel bullied. We are in contact with the auror department to improve security at the school. This will likely be an ongoing endeavour." He looked directly at Briarfield and coloured his words with a hint of displeasure. "The Board of Governors has been informed and they have, in turn, informed us that they wish to take a more active role in the school. Madame Longbottom" his voice was sour with dislike "has been particularly insistent. I would remind the counsel that the ministry holds a third of the seats on the Board."

He saw Augusta's vulture quiver as she stood, confirming his testimony. Amelia nodded. "Then the ministry is not being cut out of Hogwarts?"

"On the contrary. We are working closely with healers from St Mungo's and the auror department, and the board is receiving more complete updates. I would suggest that this debacle has not only created a headache for the staff but the ministry is more involved than ever at the school."

"Who would you place the ultimate blame with?" This was a question that they had not rehearsed. His eyes narrowed.

"Minister Fudge had authority over Dolores Umbridge. He should have known what she was doing. She was directly responsible for the crime: he is either guilty of not preventing it or, if he knew not of it, of neglect."

Amelia nodded, turning as Briarfield had to the stands. "Severus Snape has testified both of the severity of the defendant's crime and of the considerable steps that the school has taken to ensure that this does not happen again. I suggest that whatever Mister Snape's motivations" she did not look at him "he has defended his students as well as any other professor and he is working with the Ministry to rectify the situation. Furthermore, Severus Snape is not on trial today. It is Madame Umbridge and - by extension - the previous administration, who we are here to question. I thank Master Snape for succinct testimony and for attempting to right this wrong."

He looked at her, an eyebrow raised, and she nodded. A glance around the room saw that most attention was focused either on Briarfield, who was looking sheepish, or on Umbridge, whose head was bowed. Severus left.

* * *

It was mid-morning before the occupants of the castle got a fuller picture of what had occurred at the trial. Most of them had gathered in the staff room the night before - including the newly arrived Remus Lupin - to listen to the wireless bulletin on the trial when it had finally ended. And that morning the Prophet had been almost exclusively dedicated to the previous day's Wizengamot. The main story had been sober and well written, mentioning only the names of the older students who, Severus knew, had given express permission for their identities to be revealed.

Further into the paper, Rita Skeeter emerged. The focus of the article was supposedly the election of the first Witch to the seat of Chief Warlock, and Rita had somehow outwardly disparaging the disrespect to tradition while only badly hiding her glee that all these Wizards were quite so outraged that a woman were above them.

What had enraged him had been the section in which she has discussed the trial, supposedly to discuss Andromeda's conduct. Her words were vague, but hidden between the lines were enough clues. Severus was sure that, by the end of the day, everybody would know that it was Astoria Greengrass who had been tortured. Well - not everybody - but those who knew enough about the subtleties of particularly pureblood and society politics would have no trouble picking out the information. It wasn't direct enough for the confidentiality spells or the libel laws to pin the with down with, but it was clearly purposeful.

Lupin didn't seem to have picked up on it. He closed the paper quietly and picked up his goblet. "There's a small part of me that feels relieved." He said, looking sideways at Severus. "The news may be grim, but at least it isn't _new_ news. There haven't been any more disappearances in the last week."

Severus scowled. Where the Dark Lord was concerned, silence was rarely golden. "I imagine that the Dark Lord is hoping that Wizarding society will destabilise itself without his help. There's a short article on page fourteen about the appointment of a dangerous Werewolf at Hogwarts. A werewolf known to have had at least one near miss."

Lupin had the grace to flush. "Madame Pomfrey will be supervising my, erm, taking of the potion." He said. "She refused to accept my appointment on any less."

Severus grunted. "I shall deliver it directly to your babysitter in that case."

Lupin didn't respond, and Filius filled the silence with plans for duelling classes.

"I should like both of your help" he said, spearing asparagus on a sharp fork. "You have distinct duelling styles that I believe the children will learn from."

"I would be happy to assist." Lupin, of course, was there at once. "How many classes will you run, do you think?"

Severus interjected. "I will also help with the more advanced classes, but I imagine you will need to divide the classes by ability rather than age, Filius. The teaching has been... patchy."

Lupin, surprisingly, agreed, though Severus should have realised that it was for quite different reasons. "I agree Filius. Harry's defence group covered some rather advanced magic last year. I imagine that some of their peers will be in need more of basic protection spells than the advanced duelling that I imagine they are hoping for."

"Advanced duelling?"

"They've already faced off against Death Eaters, Filius."

There was a short silence.

"I would prefer not to train my students for a war." The diminutive professor said quietly. "Particularly not one in which they are likely to hurt one another."

Severus scoffed, but Lupin was more gentle. "We grow up, you know." He looked at Severus, who looked away. "We grow up and we have to fight. That's how it works."

Severus nodded stiffly, agreeing for once.

"I suppose if we focus on defence and teamwork?" Filius was more enthused now. "I suspect that this will be more fighting than duelling, but what if we-" Severus tuned Filius out, only half registering his colleague's plans and allowing Lupin to respond appropriately. His mind jumped back once more to the sheaves of bloodied parchment.

 _Mudblood._

All children grow up, sooner or later.

When the meal was over, Severus was forced to join Lupin once more as the pair of them, along with Minerva, met Alastor Moody in the entrance hall for the preliminary security scan.

Thank you Alastor." Minerva said, her voice crisp. "I have asked Remus and Severus to accompany us. Severus is of course our Dark Arts professor and Remus-" she gave him a narrow look that nonetheless hid a smile "I think it would be fair to say that Remus knows rather a lot about the ins and outs of this castle." Remus chuckled and Severus' scowl deepened.

"It played out well in the end, you know." Alastor grunted. As far as Alastor could see the auror was simply poking his wand at things. Walls, portraits... it didn't seem to matter. "Andromeda made it clear that she would be taking an active but entirely documented interest at Hogwarts, and Albus' stepping down to dedicate himself to the school went down well. It got a bit dicey in the middle... Malfoy was all for weakening laws over dark artefacts as it would curtail the independence of the school - as though he hadn't tried to have Albus removed the other year! Augusta stepped up though. She made a bit of a speech about being concerned about the origin of the quill and of the obvious corruption in the old administration." He gave a bark like laugh. "Malfoy didn't like that but there wasn't much he could do, not with all Augusta's old cronies at her back. She secured a vote on thorough investigations into corruption in a number of departments."

Severus gave a genuine smile, reflected on Lupin's face. "We should have approached Augusta years ago." Lupin sighed. "Just think how much progress we could have made well before-" He broke off awkwardly.

"The clincher was the testimonies." Moody jabbed his wand at a tapestry, then turned around slowly, looking carefully at the wall. "Jordan's a likeable chap, and subtly political. I reckon he'd make a mean politician if that weren't an insult. The little girls though... Umbridge is going to Azkaban for life and Fudge is claiming a lack of knowledge. They're looking at the Weasley bootlicker now. He's already got ties to bloody Barty Crouch Junior through those messages from his dead fucking dad."

Severus' brows rose. He certainly hadn't liked Percy Weasley but he couldn't imagine that the child had had an active role in torture at his siblings' school. Then again, family was no indication of love. One only had to look at the Blacks to see that.

"What's here?" Moody asked. "I didn't attend Hogwarts, you know, so I'm blind as a fucking bat in this school."

Minerva frowned. "There isn't anything there Alastor. It's just wall." Remus echoed her. "I don't know of anything here either."

A thought came to Severus. "The defence association - Potter's little club - they were discovered near here in some kind of hidden room, according to Slytherin gossip."

Moody turned. "A hidden room?"

"Why?"

"There's something there." Alastor said. "I don't know what, and it's bloody faint." His voice trailed off as his wand moved in more familiar, complicated motions. His fake eye was spinning and Severus felt nauseous. "I suppose I'll have to ask Albus, or perhaps young Potter when he's finally reachable."

They continued along the corridor, Remus pointing out more passages and hidden openings than even Severus had discovered in the long decade he'd spent as a teacher. It was decided that a new set of wards would be raised to overlay the old ones. Alastor would also return for a comprehensive security scan accompanied by a team of curse breakers.

It had been an unsettling trip, if Severus were honest. There was a lot about the school that he had not bothered to investigate even after the knowledge that it had long sheltered a Basalisk, and the amount of frankly dangerous contraband that had been either stashed or abandoned in the castle had made even Minerva swear.

His mind kept flicking back to the thought of the children soon to return. Was the castle any safer than the world outside of it? A year ago he'd have scoffed at the notion that it was not - now he was less certain.


	5. Chapter 5

**I neither own nor profit from the world of Harry Potter.**

Author's note - sorry for the rather erratic posting... I've got exams coming up and this has pretty much fallen by the wayside. Hopefully after those I'll have more time!

Also, I am absolutely planning on continuing this for a while. I'm not sure exactly how long it's going to be (I've mapped out where I expect each chapter to go but can't account for unexpected detours) but it's nowhere near done I'm afraid. For those who want a little more info (no big spoilers) : this isn't going to turn into smut, and it will (I expect) mostly take place from the perspectives of Harry and Severus, but obviously others (e.g. Minerva) will make an appearance. I don't really want to say much more than that.

Any more questions, ping them my way and I'll try my best to respond!

* * *

Harry sighed as he felt the magic wash over him. It was subtle and felt slightly cool, and he could sense the sheen over his skin as he passed through the barrier. The train platform was almost empty this early. Two men with auror badges were speaking quietly a few metres away, joined by the pair who had escorted him, and one nodded politely at him while the other looked curiously at his face, his face shadowed beneath his hood.

Harry didn't greet them, but he did pull out his wand and wave a loud featherlight charm over his trunk.

The taller auror, dark haired and bearded, gave him a small smile, and waved his apology away.

"Don't worry Potter, we've got you covered." He said. Harry wasn't even sure whether it was intended to be condescending, but he'd got what he wanted and so, without turning his head fully he gave a cheerfully respectful "thank you sir" and pulled his trunk and owl cage into the train.

It was only when sat inside an empty compartment, door fully closed and blinds drawn, that he allowed himself to relax. Hedwig gave a low hoot from outside the window and he opened the glass to let her in. She pecked his ear gently, and settled in her cage, her eyes wary.

"I'm sorry girl" he said softly. "It was better for you away though, you know that." She turned her head away.

Sighing, Harry pulled a small paperback from his trunk. _The Complexities of Complexion._ He'd noticed it apparently abandoned on a shelf in the Gryffindor common room, and when it was unclaimed at year end he'd pocketed it. All summer he'd studied, wandless, and now here was his chance.

Rehearsing the incantation one last time, he pointed his wand at the skin just to the left of his scar. As he whispered, he felt his face tingle as his wand brushed over each section.

There was a long mirror behind each bench of the carriage, and Harry studied his reflection. The main difference was that he looked healthier. The pallor was gone, and his bones no longer stood out quite so much. There was a problem though. His bruises were completely gone, and even the scrapes weren't visible, but his face almost looked more wrong without the blemishes. It was subtle, Harry hoped, but his face was almost too smooth. There was no colour to his cheeks, no blemishes, no real definition...

He groaned. The book had warned about this. Intended for beautification, it had written at length about the importance of emphasising face shape with different shades and techniques.

He muttered a quick finite and started over, watching his reflection carefully in the mirror this time. He certainly didn't know more than the one spell - and all of the rest seemed too complicated to cast for the first time on his own face.

He tried again and looked critically at his own reflection. This, he thought, looked a lot better. It was true that somebody looking closely would see the odd scrape or bruise, but nothing particularly out of the ordinary this time. And his complexion was – to put it in the book's terms – more complex. His face was less unnaturally smooth and his cheekbones retained more of their definition.

He sighed. The concentration and the magic had taken a bit out of him and he wouldn't have anything to eat until the trolley arrived that afternoon.

The door slid open and the shorter taller auror – the one who had spoken on the platform – poked his head through.

"Everything okay in here Potter?" He asked, his tone friendly. "We've had a couple of alerts for underage magic. Some kind of –" he coughed, covering a smirk – "make-up charm?"

Harry didn't have to feign his embarrassment, but allowed himself a grin.

"Guilty." He said. "I've got a few spots, you know, and what with everyone staring at me…" he trailed off, grimacing internally at having to play up to his image.

The auror chuckled, looking suddenly sympathetic.

"I remember those years." He actually still had a pimple on his chin, but Harry didn't point it out. "Couldn't be arsed with charms though, not for those. Fiddly things glamours."

He saluted, to which Harry shifted uncomfortably, and shut the door behind him.

By the time his friends arrived, Harry had been asleep for an hour. Luna and Neville spoke quietly as the train took off, obviously trying not to wake him, but Ron and Hermione were already bickering halfway down the corridor, and Harry sat up with a groan as the door banged. Clearly the prefect meeting was over.

"Honestly Ron, waiting on the other side of the barrier wouldn't help at all! I'm sure they sent aurors with him for safety!"

"When have they ever done anything that sensible?"

"Well-"

"Harry!"

Hermione was cut off as Ron spotted his friend, reaching down to clap him painfully on the back. Harry covered a wince, and then Hermione was on him, a shock of hair in his face and strong arms bracketing him in.

He laughed and pretended to choke, and she let him go, eyes narrowing as she examined his face.

"You're too thin." She told him matter-of-factly. "Also, is that a bruise on your cheek?"

"Dudley." He muttered. She pursed her lips, but didn't say anything else.

Neville coughed. "I've got some bruise cream if you want it Harry. Gran always sends me off with a tub." He dug in his bag, sending scraps of parchment flying, and pulled out a small tin.

Harry took it gratefully, a little embarrassed, and dabbed a little on his cheek, where he knew the magic hadn't fully covered the bruising. It felt better almost at once.

"Thanks mate". He looked wistfully at the tub as he handed it back. If only he had enough of that to bathe in.

Ron was telling Neville and Hermione about the family trip to Romania – "You should have seen Ginny in the nursery. Did a Harry and tried to teach them all to fly herself!" – but Harry looked up to see Luna's eyes on him.

She smiled serenely.

"A sphynx never stops thinking." She said. "If she knew all the answers she wouldn't have to ask." Luna's hand reached out to his for a moment, and her finger traced the scars left there. Her voice was suddenly a lot less vague. "You should ask, Harry."

Harry frowned, swallowing down his anger at the scars. I must not tell lies. "Ask what, Luna?"

She smiled at him rather vaguely. He watched her as she tucked her arm into Neville's and pulled a transfiguration textbook out of her satchel. Her eyes moved along the page steadily and her pinky finger of her left hand seemed to be tracing the wand movement for the particular flick that resulted in silver.

Hermione turned to him.

"How was your summer Harry?" He could hear the concern in her voice.

"It was summer." He said dully. "It's over now."

She tried to press him. "Really, are you-"

Ron hushed her. "Hermione, leave it won't you? Summer's over." He turned to Harry. "Charlie said to say hi. We saw Norbert again too and you won't believe how big she is! Hagrid could probably ride her if she'd let him, she's that huge. 'Cor can you imagine?"

Neville laughed. "I still can't believe after all that crap in first year that there actually was a dragon you know. I thought you were just saying it to wind Malfoy up, or to top the whole troll thing."

Ron scoffed "I wish. She's still got a taste for my blood too, I swear! Every time I went near she'd snap at me, and I had to spend ages in the hospital wing that time, missed all the fun in the forest with ferret-face."

They were all laughing when the door slid open.

"Potter." It was a girl with smooth dark blonde hair that Harry thought was called Daphne Greengrass. She'd never spoken to him before. Beside her was Nott. Ron's wand was out at once.

"Er, hi?" Harry's voice was wary.

Everybody in the compartment drew their wand, except for Luna, who simply said "Hello Theo." Theodore Nott nodded to her awkwardly, then warily met Harry's eyes, hands empty.

"Potter." His voice was smooth and cultured. "I hope your summer was enjoyable."

Ron made and angry sound and Hermione huffed. Harry just rolled his eyes.

"What do you want Nott?" Ron asked.

It was Daphne who answered, her hands twisting nervously. "As Nott said, we wanted to know whether Potter had had a... productive summer." Her voice softened slightly. "It must have been hard."

Harry's temper flared. "My godfather dying? Thanks a fucking bunch for your thoughts and prayers."

Her lips pressed together in a thin line. "I don't pray."

He glared at her and Nott intervened. "Last year was a difficult one. I hope we are all better prepared for what comes now."

Hermione was frowning at the Slytherins, and she looked as though she were about to speak, but through the open door Malfoy's voice was carrying along the train corridor.

"Leave me, Goyle. Go and find the trolley or something. I'm going to-"

With a wide-eyed glance at Nott, Daphne left the compartment and hurried away. Nott gave Harry another assessing look and then, with a nod to Luna and a short bow to the compartment as a whole, left too, closing the door behind him.

"That was odd." said Neville.

"You think?" Said Ron incredulously. "What the hell did they want?"

Luna frowned at him. "It sounded like they wanted to know how Harry's summer was, Ron."

He rolled his eyes and turned to Harry and Hermione.

She spoke slowly. "I don't know what else... unless they wanted information? Nott's father was definitely a Death Eater, right Harry?"

He gave a short nod and rubbed his head, his earlier good mood forgotten. He slipped a book from his satchel. He'd received a note from the Headmaster asking him to Owl-order his textbooks this year. It had been a blow but also a relief. While he'd have loved a reprieve from Privet Drive he wouldn't have been able to disguise his appearance, and Diagon Alley was always crowded before the start of term.

There had been another benefit too. The catalogue that Dumbledore had provided from Flourish and Blotts was comprehensive, and for the first time Harry looked at more than just his course texts. Specifically, for a number of subjects the catalogue advertised reference texts. He hadn't bought too many, but there were a few that jumped out at him. There was a reference text that combined Herbology, Potions, and Care of Magical Creatures, and another that brought together and cross-referenced Charms and Transfiguration primarily. He knew that Hermione used both religiously and regularly pointed him to them for homework. There was another for Runes and Arithmancy that he wouldn't need, but he'd got the first two.

They were, perhaps unsurprisingly, very interesting, and he realised that Hermione's efficiency at doing homework might be less down to overwhelming intelligence and more due to having good resources and a strong understanding of theory. He'd also realised, when perusing the catalogue, quite how limited his knowledge of spells truly was. He and Hermione had trained the DA well, but they'd only really explored spells that she had researched from the syllabus - spells that would come up in OWL or NEWT exams. Yet Dumbledore's duel with Voldemort in the atrium, as well as his own fight for his life, had shown Harry quite how limited his understanding of magic was. He'd need to do better.

It was the Wandlore reference book that he took out now, disguised as one of the Defence textbooks that Sirius had given him last year. He knew that nobody would question his reading it, and he wasn't anywhere near ready for Hermione to gloat over his improved study habits.

Sure enough, Hermione glanced at the book and Ron just huffed at him, turning back to the others.

"Wasn't Daphne's sister there on-" Hermione said suddenly, but Ron shushed her. He gestured at Harry. Harry pretended he hadn't noticed. So they'd been together. It figured.

"He's reading." Ron said quietly. "Plus, you know..." Harry saw Ron gesture awkwardly at Luna and Neville, and Hermione acquiesce.

"It's okay." Luna's voice was floaty. "I have a very interesting conversation starter about Triffids. Would you like to hear it?"

"Alright."

"They supposedly went extinct a couple of decades ago when the termination programme was rolled out, but some muggle scient-sists have found some old pods and are trying to re-cultivate them." She said. "They think it's just a joke experiment because a squib wrote a cautionary tale about them but daddy says that the Russian magical government is getting quite worried." She turned to Ron. "What do you think the government should do?"

Harry had to hand it to Luna. That was a much better conversation starter than he'd been expecting. Ron began to stumble an answer and Hermione interjected by asking Luna about her father's sources, and Harry turned back to his book. Most of the things he was reading related to very basic spells that they'd learned in first year through to third year, but the theory behind them made up the building blocks of the more complex spells, and he figured he might as well start reading at the beginning.

It was early afternoon by the time he engaged with his friends again. Luna and Neville were building a card tower out of chocolate-frog cards and Ron and Hermione were talking quietly together. Harry slipped out to use the toilet, and as he returned to the carriage he paused beside an open door, listening unseen to Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy.

"Something big is being planned, you know." Nott's voice was languid. "Father's had a lot of visitors recently, and _he's_ obviously angry about the Ministry becoming more alert."

"Of course they're planning something." Malfoy's voice sounded impatient. "When is he not planning something? And don't act like you're all high and mighty Theo, having _visitors_." His voice twisted into a sneer. "Do they even know you exist?"

"Do they know _you_ exist?"

There was a short silence from inside the compartment.

"Did you know?" Nott's voice was quiet. "About, you know, last year? Was it _his_ plan?"

There was a thud and a pause. "No." Malfoy's voice was quiet. "It wasn't _his_ idea, though he certainly approves. And I didn't know. If I'd known that she was being hurt I'd have... my father could have done something at least."

"Yeah." There was a silence, and more shuffling. Realising that the conversation was over, Harry returned to his compartment.

"Malfoy and Nott are up to something." He said as soon as he was sure that the compartment door was sealed.

Ron looked wary. "What?"

Harry was frustrated. "I don't know. But they were talking about - it must have been Death Eater stuff, and someone being hurt last year?"

"I don't think that's about Death Eaters mate."

"Why not? It sounded like Malfoy really had an in with them."

"Well yeah but we already knew that, didn't we?"

"But-"

"Harry, every year we suspect Snape and we suspect Malfoy." Hermione was almost pleading with him. "Every single year. And when have we ever been right?"

He turned to her, betrayed. "Hermione I know what I heard!"

"If you just think logically-"

"Logically!"

"We'll keep an ear out Harry." Neville's voice was gentle. "I'll let you know if I see something suspicious."

It wasn't the same as having his friends beside him, but he latched onto the support gratefully. "Thanks." His voice was dull.

"Harry-"

"I'm tired Hermione."

Harry curled up against the window, which felt cool against his cheek. The lurching of the train was regular, and as he concentrated on it, blocking out his friends' voices, he found himself falling back into a deep sleep.

* * *

It had been an awkward afternoon all round. The worst moment had been when they had left the train and found the carriages. Harry reached out to touch a thestral, almost leaning on it for support as he saw once more Sirius' laughing face falling through the veil. Luna's hand grasped his and guided him up to the carriage, which was still empty. He realised that Ron, Hermione and Neville were all still outside, devastation on their faces as they started at the winged horses.

"I half thought he wasn't gone, you know." Ron said quietly as he took his seat. There were tear tracks down Hermione's cheeks. "It was just a veil. Surely Dumbledore could find a way to get him back? But I guess that confirms it."

Harry looked away, his heart aching. He too had hoped that, somehow, his friends wouldn't see the thestrals. For a moment he was angry with them for doing so. He knew it was irrational, but that knowledge didn't suppress the resentment.

The glum mood had endured even the arrival of the Feast, though Harry gradually began to realise that people were staring at him even more than usual.

"You'd think they'd have someone new to gawk at." He whispered. "It's not like there hasn't been other news this summer. Wasn't there a werewolf attack in Leeds? And at least three major 'disappearances' at the ministry, last I checked."

Ron gave him an odd look, picking up his cutlery as the sorting hat and stool were removed.

Katie Bell leaned down the table. "When are tryouts Harry?"

"What makes you think I made captain?" he smirked.

She rolled her eyes and Ron rounded on him. "You never said! Oh that's so cool-"

"You'll be able to use the Prefects' bathroom now Harry!"

"- I mean I hope I make it again-"

Harry grinned at Katie. "Give it a week maybe? Need to give the firsties a chance to have their first flying lesson."

She smiled at him and nodded, turning back to her friends. It was odd seeing her without Angeline or Alicia, and he realised that it would be a pretty new team this year.

Ron was still talking about making the team again, but Hermione turned back to Harry.

"Has anyone else been in contact with you, Harry?"

He was distracted by the sight of a couple of fourth year Ravenclaws outright pointing at him. Caught, one turned pink but the other just waved.

"Erm, what?"

"Have you had, you know, any visitors?"

Harry was confused. "You guys know that the only person who ever wrote to me was Sirius and you two. Ginny and Neville both sent the odd letter this summer, and Luna sent me a lot of seeds that made painted flowers grow up Aunt Petunia's wallpaper when I spilled them, but that was about it. No visitors at all." He was pretty annoyed at her for asking. Surely she knew that he'd been at Privet Drive all summer.

"I- well Harry" she looked at Ron for support. "Have you been getting the Prophet?"

He shrugged. "Nah, I stopped last year. It's all rubbish anyway, and the Quibbler covers the important stuff." He nibbled at his potatoes, which had filled him up quickly. "Why? Has anything big happened in the last week?"

"The last week?"

"Next edition of the Quibbler is due tomorrow - but given that I'm at Privet Drive whatever happens it doesn't seem to matter when I get my news."

"Harry!"

"Hermione what difference does it make if I know about a disappearance the day after it happens or four days later? I can't do anything-"

"That's not what I meant."

The wind was knocked from his sails. "What then?"

Ron had gone quite pale, the tips of his ears an angry red, and Hermione's mouth was open in shock.

"Umbridge was sent to Azkaban last week, mate." Ron's voice was quiet. "She'd been using a blood quill in detentions." The fork in Harry's hand suddenly burned red hot and he dropped it with a gasp.

Ron looked at him warily. "Keep it together, yeah?" Harry nodded jerkily. "She's got life."

Hermione had tears in her eyes. "There was a compulsion charm so that you- we - couldn't tell anyone about it Harry."

It was as though a waterfall was filling Harry's head, twisting and turning and splashing off his thoughts, the sound blocking out even Hermione's voice. They knew - she'd been sent to Askaban - and-

"We?" His voice croaked out.

Hermione stopped mid sentence. "What?" She looked guilty for a moment. "Harry, can we talk about this later?"

He looked around. Everyone within around a two meter radius had gone quiet - to the point that Ginny and Demelza were looking at him warily and little Colin Creevey even had his wand out. The goblets were vibrating. Harry shoved the thoughts to the back of his head and gave an awkward grin.

"Quidditch tryouts next Sunday!" He said. It seemed to work. The table erupted in congratulations and speculation. Only Ginny and Demelza frowned at him, Ginny's eyes narrowing as they met his. He looked away.

The rest of the meal was tense. Ron talked incessantly about the Chudley Cannon's season thus far and Hermione seemed unwilling to speak at all. Harry's temper was boiling close to the surface. He mechanically moved food around his plate and into his mouth, thoughts whirling. Other people had had those detentions? Ron and Hermione had too? And how did they know that Umbridge had gone to Azkaban when he, Harry, didn't? Hadn't he endured months of line-writing?

He supposed glumly that Mrs Weasley had figured it out somehow when Ron had returned. Or perhaps Hermione had found some way to break that - what was it, compulsion charm? But if she'd managed it, if Ron had told his parents, why couldn't he have done so sooner? He could have stopped them from having to-"

With some effort Harry reigned in his temper. He couldn't afford even more accidental magic. Sitting here though was too much. Without glancing at his friends he slipped out of the mercifully nearby doors and started to climb.

"Harry!" Hermione's voice called after him, echoing in the empty space.

"Mate, couldn't you have waited for the treacle tart at least?"

"Ron!"

Harry just moved faster. "You need to tell me what's going on, Hermione."

"Just wait up Harry! Not all of us are athletes."

The moving staircases had transported them up and up and suddenly they were on the seventh floor. Harry was almost shouting.

"Hermione!"

"Okay."

He stopped. "What?"

"Just open the door, Harry."

He stared at the blank stretch of wall that they'd arrived beside.

"I don't know..." His mind was panicked, full of rushing thoughts. What was he supposed to ask for?

Hermione came up beside him, putting a hand on his elbow, very gently. Ron was looking on in concern.

"Try saying it out loud Harry." She said firmly. "Say what you need - what the room can give you."

He thought for a moment. He wanted to feel safe, but he didn't know how the room was supposed to give him that though. He wanted control - but if he knew what would give him that then he'd already have taken it.

"I want the truth." He said out loud. Hermione let go of him and he started pacing. "I want the answers. I want to know the truth."

A door popped into existence in front of him, plain and unassuming. He stepped forward, calmer now, and the three of them entered a small sitting room. Three large armchairs encircled a small table.

"A pensive." Breathed Hermione. "I've never seen one before, have you?"

"Dumbledore has one." A thought occurred to Harry. "Do you know how to use it?"

Hermione shook her head, and Ron picked up a small book. Hermione took it from him and Ron rolled his eyes at Harry. There was silence for a moment before Hermione let out a small 'oh' of disappointment. She looked devastated.

"It says here that only people skilled in mind magics can extract memories from themselves or from others." She said. Her eyes were wide as they looked up at Harry. "I'm so sorry! Unless you can-?"

"No" he said. He sat down in an armchair and a fire burst to life beside him.

She perched awkwardly. "I suppose I could study this, but it might take some time..."

"Or you could just tell me what happened?" Harry's voice was weary. "We're supposed to be friends, guys. Why don't I know about this?"

Ron sat down. "We were kind of wondering that ourselves. We didn't realise you weren't getting the Prophet, see, and none of us knew how to ask you about it." His cheeks had gone a little pink. "Dad gave me a right bollocking, you know. Ginny got one too. He pointed out that only you had been cursed not to tell anyone about it."

Hermione's eyes were filled with tears. "Harry I'm so sorry that we never told anyone. Just because you couldn't didn't mean we shouldn't have got you out of the situation."

Harry frowned. "I told you not to, remember?"

"That was the curse though."

Harry wasn't so sure, but he let it drop.

"So how did they find out?"

Ron answered. "It was Snape!" You'll never believe this, but Dumbledore's given him the Defence job!"

"What!"

"I know! He found all the line's in Umbridge's old office and figured out that they were written in blood. Fred and George said the Order was furious and got the law department involved. Snape even testified at the trial - a few Slytherins were targeted too, see."

"Figures he'd care about that."

"Yeah. So the heads of houses visited the students who'd had detentions and then she was put on trial in front of the Wizengamot. We went to watch, and some of the older students testified. Lee Jordan, the twins..."

Harry felt a hollowness open up inside him. "McGonagall visited all the Gryffindors who had detention?"

"We asked about you." Hermione's voice was soft. "And she looked really angry and muttered about security. Harry grunted.

"I'm sure they'll talk to you soon though." Ron's voice was supposed to be comforting.

Harry shrugged listlessly. "I guess." He actually hoped they wouldn't. While he was glad that Umbridge was out of the way, he was almost more glad that he hadn't needed to be involved. Reliving that? Really, thinking about it, this was the best outcome. At least he hadn't had to go back to that stupid courtroom.

His mind was back on Ron and Hermione's detentions. "I didn't know you guys had lines with her too."

"After Dumbledore's Army was caught, you know, we had to write a few lines."

"A few?"

"Only one evening." Hermione's voice was quiet. "I think she realised that people would notice if all of us were too bloodied. But Harry, you had so many-"

"Why didn't I notice? You saw my hand?"

Ron looked at Hermione a little nervously. "We didn't want you to know." He said quietly. "You had enough to deal with, and our detentions weren't anywhere near as bad as yours."

Harry rubbed his forehead, pressure building behind his temples. How had he missed that his friends were hurting? Had he really been that wrapped up in himself last year?

"I'm sorry." Hermione's voice was quiet. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that, and I'm sorry that we didn't tell anyone, whether or not you wanted us to." She reached out and took his hand. She didn't have any scar, he noted with relief, but her finger traced his own. He swallowed hard.

"It's like with the stone." Ron said. "I got hurt in that chess game because of a risk I took to win the game. I made the decision, and it was Voldemort and Dumbledore who put us in that situation." Hermione looked at him sharply, but Harry nodded at him to continue. "We were with you, sure, but you didn't get me hurt. This is the same. Yeah in both situations we all could have gone to the adults sooner, but we didn't. We took risks and the fucking mental adults around us made us pay."

Harry gave a shaky laugh, pulling away from Hermione.

"Tell me about this trial then."


	6. Chapter 6

**I neither own nor profit from the world of Harry Potter.**

 **AN - I have noted a few inconsistencies in early chapters. I do want to go back and edit, but for now I'm more interested in continuing to write, although I'm aware that since I haven't finished this there are likely to be more errors appearing. Apologies - hopefully I'll return and fully edit after I'm done! For those wanting some information re where this is going : it's not very near the end at the moment, though I do have an idea of how it's going to play out. And I'm not committing to a posting schedule. Life is too hectic. Sorry!**

* * *

When Severus arrived at the high table for breakfast, he found himself waved over to talk to Alastor, Minerva, and the wolf.

"Severus." Alastor grunted. "I've got a lead on that bit of corridor."

"Indeed?" Despite himself, Severus was impressed. He'd returned to the wall himself and, though he'd stared at it, even going so far as to offer the stones his blood, nothing had materialised. He helped himself to eggs.

"Can't take all the credit." The auror said. "Potter and his little friends took off last night during the feast-"

"Yes Minerva, quite a display from your favourite-"

"Severus! Can you blame Harry for being upset? Everyone was staring at him, _again_ , because of that bloody paper!"

"Oh I'm sure _Potter_ is used to the-"

Alastor banged down on the table with his fist, and two small Ravenclaws jumped. Severus hastily erected a privacy ward.

"As I was saying." He growled. "Potter and his friends took off and failed to notice me following them. They entered the room, and I think we should be able to replicate it."

Severus nodded stiffly. He'd had plans for today. Poppy still wanted _his_ potions in the infirmary, he needed to arrange catch up meetings with certain students, the first years would need introductory meetings... But he supposed none of that was anyone else's priority.

"Minerva have you spoken to Harry yet?"

"Not yet Remus." She glanced at Alastor. "I thought I might speak with him today, once we've had a look at this corridor with Alastor. I hoped you might join me?"

He nodded. "Of course. I haven't seen Harry since-" he broke off. "I haven't even written to him this summer... Albus sent me underground, and there wouldn't be anything of substance that it would be safe to say..."

Severus tuned them out in disgust. However much he defeated the Marauders, even Severus could recognise that Potter had idolised his father's friends. Did Lupin really think that Potter hadn't needed the support of one after the other was murdered in front of him? Potter would surely forgive him though, and far too quickly.

He read the _Prophet_ for the remainder of his meal. Nothing particularly dramatic had happened overnight. Rita Skeeter's scathing commentary on the clothing choices on show at Platform 9 3/4 was juxtaposed with a short paragraph noting a fourfold increase in reported muggle-baiting over the last six months, and an auror had been admitted to St Mungo's after an obliviation. He duplicated that article with his wand and tucked it into his pocket book.

"I don't see why you need all of us." He said to Alastor. "I daresay Minerva and Lupin will be sufficiently competent to watch you attempt to penetrate a wall."

"Severus we'd all appreciate your expertise." Said Lupin quietly. "From what Alastor says that room could be dangerous."

"It's at least somewhat sentient." Alastor grunted. The four of them left the table, and Severus cast a silent _muffliato_ as they walked. Lupin gave him a sharp look, but Minerva was used to it, and encouraged Alastor to continue. "Potter asked it to provide something for him and it did."

"In exchange for what?" Minerva's tone was incredulous. "Surely Miss Granger wouldn't-"

"Yes, she would." said Lupin. "Hermione is intelligent and logical, and in many ways a brilliant student, but none of them are well versed in old magic. Even I only know a fraction of the knowledge Sirius inherited from his family. Hermione, for all her magical prowess, still thinks with the logic of a Muggle."

Alastor huffed, his false leg rhythmic as they climbed. "You'd better improve this Defence course Snape, and you Lupin, else Merlin help us."

"You said it was sentient."

"It provided for Potter, but there's something else too, something shielded by the magic. It's dark, Snape, darker than anything I've ever seen." Moody stopped by the tapestry of the trolls. "I checked again this morning. I don't know if it's the room itself, but there's something corrupted here."

Lupin moved forward and placed a hand against the stones. Everybody was silent for a moment.

"He's right." The werewolf looked unusually grave.

"How can you tell?" Severus spat.

"I can feel it, Severus. Or at least the wolf can." He looked rather ashamed. "He's inside me all the time, you know. Some of his instincts bleed through, if I let them - and werewolves are fundamentally dark creatures. His - my - hackles are raised, as it were." His hand balled itself on the wall. "There's something inside there that isn't right, Alastor. It's got me on edge. Thinking about it, we might not have looked too closely when making the map at school for that reason. I never did like this corridor."

Severus grimaced in disgust. The wolf was a part of him at all times? And Dumbledore chose to let him teach at a school? Lupin seemed to sense what he was thinking.

"Most of the time I simply have rather enhanced senses and good instincts. I would only become more dangerous if I let myself become something like Greyback."

There was no mistaking the horror on Lupin's face.

Minerva gave him a strained smile. "I don't doubt that the abilities can be useful Remus. Though I must admit that I am rather glad that it was _this_ Potter who discovered this particular room!" She approached the wall. "How did Harry request entrance?"

Alastor gestured. "He walked thrice before the door, and asked it out loud for what he was looking for. A door materialised, and disappeared once the children were inside."

"Pacing and requesting entrance..." Severus mused. "That seems benign at least. I can think of very few methods of selling one's soul to the proverbial devil that involve quite so little."

Minerva approached the wall and laid both palms flat against the stones. "I, Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, request entrance." The wall remained stubbornly bare. She sighed. "The old fashioned way then, I suppose. Standing back, she paced in front of the door. "We want to enter the room. We want to enter the room. We want to enter the room."

In front of Severus, an innocuous wooden door appeared. He checked for traps or hexes, and saw Alastor doing the same, but found nothing.

Minerva pushed the door open cautiously, and then wider.

"It's empty." She said. Her voice echoed slightly, and the others followed her in. "There's nothing here, nothing at all..." Severus saw that she was right. It was an empty room, large and entirely nondescript. The floor was flagstones, as in the rest of the castle, and the walls a broad expanse of white.

"I overheard the twins talking about where they practised defence." Said Lupin. "I don't think it was this room, they said it was always full of useful books and cushions and-"

He stopped, and Severus saw why. Just beside the door sat a bookshelf lined with standard basic Defence volumes.

"That wasn't there before." He said quietly, though he couldn't be certain that he'd looked directly at that spot before. Lupin shook his head more decisively.

"I think we should be more specific about what we ask for." He said. They exited the room in silence, and this time the wolf paced.

"We want to see the things you're hiding. We want to see the things you're hiding. We want to see the things you're hiding."

The same door materialised, and this time Lupin was the first through.

"Oh my-" They all pushed in behind him, and stared in shock. They seemed to have found their way into an enormous warehouse, stacked with precarious piles of junk and contraband.

"You couldn't have been more specific?" Severus sneered, but even he was in awe. On the shelf beside him he could see what looked like the skin of a basilisk, a mummified cat, and an assortment of rather outdated pornographic muggle magazines. Minerva and Alastor were silent.

"We still don't know what the room wants." Lupin's voice was a little nervous.

Minerva snorted. "It isn't obvious?" The men looked at her in confusion. She smiled. "The doorway, both in this room and the last, they had runes around the entrance. She pointed them out, and it took Severus a moment to connect the lines into familiar symbols, they were so worn. Minerva took out her wand and started chanting, wand meandering along the walls, and flashes of more runes, more complicated than anything Severus had ever seen, started to appear. "It must be her life's work."

"Whose?" Moody asked.

"Rowena Ravenclaw." she said. "I recognise the handwriting. My undergraduate dissertation, you know." She sounded a little wistful. "I imagine that the room collects and accumulates, and tries to communicate, knowledge." Her fingers traced the spine of a book, and it curled into her hand.

"Can you read it?" Asked Lupin. Severus recalled that the boy had been in Runes with him, and had probably been better at them than Severus. Clearly neither were as good as Minerva though. She took a broomstick from the shelf and, after casting a couple of diagnostic charms on it, hovered above the doorway, her wand still illuminating patches of runes.

"Nowhere near all of it." She said. "This is incredibly complex, and warded to be largely incomprehensible and all but indestructible." The light of her wand focused around the doorway. "This part however... it's a welcome. The room invites us inside, asking only knowledge in return - knowledge to grow the room." Her voice trailed off.

"What kind of knowledge are we talking, lass?"

She glared at Alastor and he rolled her eyes. "Minerva."

"The room looks at what we want through our requesting entrance and our use of the room." She said slowly. Her hand pressed the stone. "And it must use everything accumulated in here - all the things hidden here - to provide for the next user. The room actually learns."

Severus tried not to show his trepidation - or his admiration. That the room knew so much about the human psyche... at least it wasn't Salazar Slytherin who had created it. He supposed that he should be glad that an intellect such as Rowena's hadn't been quite so geared toward ambition or power.

Minerva suddenly dipped, more brooms in hand. She pushed a Nimbus '98 toward Severus, and then rose, starting down the central pathway.

"Let's get started then."

* * *

Four hours later they had made minimal progress. Lupin and Alastor were somewhere to the left of Severus and Minerva. Alastor had refused to use a broomstick and the thunk of his wooden leg echoed oddly in the cavernous room.

They'd passed so many unusual items that Severus had stopped being surprised. A number of framed portraits were piled, canvas face down, on the shelf near him, beneath a cloudy crystal ball. To his right was a wardrobe that they'd found to be full of fur coats and - unexpectedly - a dusting of snowflakes. He'd pushed that door shut with a shiver. Probably a mislaid or tampered with vanishing device. Near the shelf before had been a large mirror in which he'd sworn he'd seen a flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye.

Minerva had just offered Severus his fourth biscuit - "No, thank you Minerva but I wouldn't want to spoil my appetite for lunch" - and the pair of them were examining a collection of keys at wandpoint when there was a shout. The keys dropped to the floor and started scuttling away as Minerva and Severus moved toward the noise. The tranfiguration professor levitated two more books from shelves as they passed, and Severus grabbed a skein of unicorn hair as they rounded the last shelf.

Before them, Remus and Alastor stood, wands out as they stared at a bust of an old warlock.

"The lost diadem of Ravenclaw." Minerva breathed, and Severus saw that she was looking at a small tiara, tarnished with age. Could it really be the diadem? Severus supposed that this was Rowena Ravenclaw's room. Where else would it be? The diadem looked so small but, so innocuous, and Severus felt a flash of contempt for Minerva's admiration for the room. Why keep all wisdom in one immovable fixed location, and at the discretion of an object rather than a human mind? This diadem was surely far more useful, far more-"

"Stop." Lupin was suddenly in front of him, his arms outstretched before Severus and Minerva. Severus' lip curled.

"Move, wolf."

"There's something not right." There was an edge to Lupin's voice that made Severus pause, and he suddenly realised how close he was to the diadem. Only Lupin stood between them, and the other wizard's body was vibrating slightly. Severus took a cautious step back.

"It isn't the full moon today." He said warily.

"The wolf can sense something." Lupin said. "It's like your mark or Harry's scar... Dark magic leaves traces."

"You can sense Potter's scar?"

The wolf looked miserable. "Voldemort attacked us personally once, you know." Severus had known. Lily had been there. "All of us. We were nineteen and trying to protect Lily's parents, and he wanted to recruit us. Her's dad stepped in front of a curse meant for her, possibly even by accident, but everyone else was unhurt except me." He looked away. "Voldemort crucioed me, and and I think the wolf recognises his magic now... he knows that that magic hurt us. So if he's pretty attuned to dark magic, he's very attuned to Voldemort, and Greyback too. Magic always leaves a trace."

It was a depressing story. Lily's father had been a kind man, and his heart ached unwillingly. It had however successfully cleared Severus' mind of the diadem's draw. Minerva too was stood back, looking slightly ashamed.

"I can't sense more than danger." Remus said apologetically. Alastor stepped forward, and started to mutter incantations. After a moment Severus joined in.

"He's right." Said Alastor. "It's not clean, not..." His voice trailed off, and he repeated his last incantation.

Severus lowered his wand, cheeks very pale, and met the auror's gaze.

"We should take it to Albus." Said Alastor. "He might know..."

"What is it?" Asked Minerva.

Severus didn't know what to say. The readings he'd got off it had been disturbing. He didn't know exactly how to interpret them, but he didn't want to touch the diadem anymore.

"It's Voldemort." He said. "Or... Something like him. We need to show Dumbledore, or even a trusted unspeakable."

Minerva nodded. "Okay. Is it safe to touch?"

Severus shook. "I can't find any curse, as such, but this the object itself clearly experts a draw, and I personally don't want to allow even indirect contact between myself and that thing." He turned away slightly. Even now he could feel the lure of centuries of wisdom.

Minerva and Alastor worked together for a moment, the witch transfiguring a small box on the shelf beside her into a more substantial container. He watched her asses her surroundings before transforming a variety of the objects around her back to their base constituents and lining the box with a number of metals, carving containment runes into each layer. Alastor added his own spells to it, before levitating the diadem into the box and securely locking it.

Lupin's shoulders seemed to relax as soon as the lid closed, and even Severus realised a slightly loss of tension.

"I suggest we go to Albus immediately." Severus said. "For one-" but he was cut off. The shelf closest to Minerva let out and ominous creak, and that was the only warning any of them had before the shelving exploded.

Severus was blasted backward, and hastily cast a cushioning bubble around himself. It wasn't particularly effective. His arm hit something hard and he gasped with pain. There was a lull in which he grabbed his broom and rose quickly through the dust. Then another small explosion rocked below, Minerva and Alastor shot up on a bucking flying carpet, and Severus had to close his eyes, clutching the handle of his broom for dear life.

"Where's Remus?" Asked Minerva. Severus looked around and felt dawning horror as he realised that the wolf had not emerged. There was no sign of movement below them.

" _Homenum revelio_!" gasped Minerva.

They waited for a moment.

"No, no!" Minerva sounded anguished. "Remus!" She leaned down and the carpet jerked alarmingly, Alastor grabbing her cloak as she slid a few inches.

"He's not human, you fool!" Snapped Severus. "That spell won't work, and we don't have anything to detect for wolves. They're very resistant to a lot of magic."

Minerva stilled, then drew herself up, face calming. "Don't you dare call me a fool ever again, Master Snape." Her tone was icy, but Severus could detect the relief beneath the surface.

"I apologise." Said Severus stiffly.

"Noted." Said Minerva. She was still scanning the settling mayhem below them. It was starting to settle. At her command, the carpet began to drift downward.

"Stop." Said Severus curtly.

"Severus we all know you don't like him but-"

"If you go poking around right now we'll probably just hurt him further." he said. She stilled. "We can watch and look and shout, but realistically we're going to need more help."

* * *

When they emerged from the room, the normality of the corridor was a shock. It was a Saturday, and the students were taking advantage of the good weather to celebrate being reunited with their friends. Shouts of laughter rose through open windows and the dust that surrounded the three adults shimmered slightly in the bright sunlight. Severus glared at a small child, probably a first year, who had seen them emerge. She stood with her mouth open in shock as the door disappeared. Meeting his narrowed eyes, she turned white and fled.

"Stop scaring the children!" McGonagall admonished him. "Come on."

They almost ran down the corridor toward the headmaster's office, the carpet floating behind them and causing suits of armour to rattle as it brushed their visors.

"Aren't they illegal professor?" Lavender Brown was staring at it in awe. "I thought they were banned in the '70s?"

"Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Brown, for an unadmirable impression of Professor Binns." He pretended to ignore Miss Patil's snort of laughter as well as Minerva's admonishments.

"You mustn't take your temper out on the students Severus! That will be ten points to Gryffindor Miss Brown, for practical knowledge. We're all worried about Remus but-"

He broke "I am not worried about-!"

"You needn't like him to not want him dead, Severus." She said quietly. "And I hope you'd realise by now that, while he has his flaws, they are by as large neither as malicious nor as numerous as you pretend." He tried to speak but she cut him off. "And even if none of that were true, some of us _are_ worried."

He shut up.

The office was empty when they entered, though Professor Dippet slipped out of his frame as they entered, and it was only a short wait until Albus sat before them, listening to Alastor's succinct retelling with an increasingly grave visage.

"May I see the diadem?" He asked.

"Remus is missing!"

"Oh fuck."

Minerva and Alastor spoke at the same time, but attention focused on Alastor, much to Minerva's displeasure.

"I don't have it." He said. "Lost it in the explosion, and then we were concerned with Remus-"

"The box can't be summoned." said Minerva in horror. "I put every protection-"

Dumbledore stood up. "I think we have dallied long enough." He looked at them gravely. "I need to stress how important it is that you keep what you found in that room to yourselves." For a moment Severus thought the headmaster's hand was about to grab his wand, and he wandered if he was about to be obliviated. "If Voldemort gets wind of this..." He trailed off, and Severus' apprehension deepened. What exactly had they found?

Albus looked directly at Minerva. "You will be in charge of the school as Alastor and I endeavour to find Mister Lupin and the diadem." He glanced at the sword hanging above the fireplace, then back toward Severus. "Severus, if you could take over Head of Gryffindor until Remus is recovered."

Severus sighed. He already had his own Head duties, and was hours behind.

"You think the two of you will suffice?" He sneered, thinking of the size of the room. "We wouldn't want Lupin to expire from starvation while he's trapped."

Albus' eyes twinkled slightly. "It won't just be the two of us, but I'll pass on your concern my boy!"

Severus almost snarled, and Minerva moved to question Albus further.

"Send a patronus if you need me for anything particularly urgent." he snapped, and left the office.

* * *

It was the next morning before Severus was to learn anything more about the repercussions of their excursion into the room of secrets. A house elf had popped in as he prepared for bed to deliver a note that said only that Lupin was in the hospital wing and that they would convene there for breakfast the next morning.

Severus had been too tired to enquire of the headmaster further. It had been a long day. His own students had occupied his afternoon, and then the Gryffindors, in high spirits and typically bratty at the sight of the potions master, had resisted all attempts at a curfew.

"Professor McGonagall never-"

"I do not care." He said finally, voice almost a whisper in the now silent common room. "I do not care whether you stayed up all night every night last year." Sullen faces looked up at him. "You are teenagers who require sleep, and I am an adult who also requires sleep. Therefore we will all use the night to sleep, mister Creevey, rather than to explore Miss Robbins' waist, or whatever it is your hand is now doing."

The boy flushed furiously and the girl glared at him. He felt a rush of vindictive power. There was silence.

"Bed."

This time, at last, they obeyed.

He waited a moment, looking around the common room. He'd been here infrequently of late. It held bitter memories for him. There had been a few years, a few glorious years, when he and Lily had been more or less carefree. He'd visited her here (carefree did not included the Slytherin common room) and they'd sat in the window seat with Marline and Regulus and watched the Thestrals.

He idly pointed his wand at each seat in turn, charming them to be uncomfortable before he left.

Now, as he walked briskly toward the hospital wing, several older Gryffindors glared at him, though he assumed that they were merely angry at the bedtime and had yet to realise his tampering. Well, they could consider it homework.

Albus locked the door as it closed behind him, Poppy looking disgruntled from her office.

Lupin was sat up in bed looking rather grey, though otherwise not visibly injured.

"Where are Minerva and Alastor?" Severus' voice was acerbic. He didn't particularly want to wait.

"Ah." Dumbledore sat down in a conjured armchair and motioned for Severus to do the same. "I think it best that we keep this between us." He said. "This is quite sensitive information."

Severus frowned, but kept silent. With a tap of Albus' wand, a tray of food appeared before each of them, and the older man took a sip of pumpkin juice before he began to speak.

"Firstly, to mister Lupin." He inclined his head to the werewolf, who was at that moment eating a crumpet. Lupin raised a single eyebrow. "I have been informed by Madame Pomfrey that you will require a day of sleep but should be well enough to start classes tomorrow. I should like both of you to attend the first Defence classes of the term - show a united front - and then you can work out how to divide the work." Severus winced at the idea of showing respect to the werewolf in front of a class, but he couldn't deny that the children were unlikely to learn to defend themselves adequately with only his time available.

"What exactly detained him?" He sneered. "I would prefer the children not to arrive several hours late to class."

Albus gave him a faintly disapproving look. "Remus was trapped, Severus, under some quite sensitive enchanted objects and quite close to the diadem, freed from its box in the chaos, that you located yesterday. If Remus' strength, reduced though it was by his proximity to this object, had not allowed him to hold his position without allowing an erumpant horn to explode beside him whilst the Hogwarts elves and I cleared the room, he would likely be dead."

Severus kept his face blank as he considered this, though his own shoulders wanted to roll back in sympathy. It sounded as though he'd kept the tension up with his werewolf strength alone.

"The diadem weakened his magic?"

"Indeed." Albus' voice was grave. He leaned forward, pushing his food to one side, and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "I expect that you are both wondering exactly why the diadem is so important."

* * *

The story of Tom Riddle's rise to power had been objectively fascinating - and horrifying, Severus thought. That Voldemort had made himself a single Horcrux was bad enough, but the idea of seven made his stomach roil.

"I don't agree." Said Lupin quietly.

"With what, my boy?" Albus' voice sounded surprised.

"Alastor and Minerva at a minimum should know about this." Remus said quietly. "There are others, too, but particularly them."

It took Severus a moment to realise what Remus was getting at, and to his surprise he found that he agreed.

"At the risk of repeating our conversation the other day, Headmaster, I must remind you that you did agree to share your information."

For a moment he felt rather than saw a flare of magic from Albus, and Severus' fingers closed around his wand.

"My occlumency will resist any memory charm." He said quietly. "You would break my mind."

"My mind is protected too." put in Lupin. "The wolf guards it - one of the benefits of lycanthropy."

Severus had not known that, and almost turned to ask the wolf more about it. The tension in Albus stopped him.

"We are trustworthy." He ground out. "Alastor is one of your oldest allies. Minerva too. And you still have several of these heinous objects to disable. Why not tell those who might assist us in identifying them, or at the very least guard the school from them?"

"I'm also concerned." Lupin was calmer. "Your strategy - forgive me headmaster - has not worked particularly well so far. Voldemort was without a body for, what, thirteen years, and the only horcrux that was destroyed was by chance." He grimaced. "Voldemort's soul was in the school in first year, lured by yourself. Harry faced it. A horcrux _possessed an eleven year old_ the following year. A third has been sheltered by the school the entire time." He rubbed a hand over his face. "You do us, and particularly Harry, a disservice Albus, by not letting us weaken Voldemort more quickly."

Albus' eyes had dimmed. "I don't want Tom finding out."

"We can keep it quiet." Lupin was persuasive. "But Minerva and Alastor deserve to know at the very least. I would suggest that Bill Weasley might be another." Severus sneered slightly. "Severus I suggest you speak with him. He's a curse breaker, and very skilled. I imagine he'd be very helpful."

Lupin's voice had begun to fade and this seemed to bring Albus down slightly.

"Rest, my boy." He murmured. He fussed for a moment with the covers before looking at Severus. "You are both right." He said quietly. "I have endangered us long enough." Some of the tension in Severus' shoulders disappeared, though not a lot. "I will convene a meeting as quickly as possible, though I fear you will be asleep mister Lupin." The wolf nodded, glancing at Madame Pomfrey's office, where the mediwitch was visible, arms crossed and a tray of potions vials levitated beside her. Severus had rarely seen her look so disgruntled.

"I expect to see you up for class tomorrow Lupin." He said by way of farewell. "I _had_ hoped that you would have time to familiarise yourself with my lesson plans this weekend, but such competence is not to be."

It was, he thought, a troubling sign that he was not particularly incensed by the eye roll that the marauder sent his way.


	7. Chapter 7

**I neither own nor profit from the world of Harry Potter.**

 _AN : Thank you for the lovely reviews! Please keep them coming, I can't tell you how much I appreciate the feedback._

* * *

The first day of classes had been gruelling all round. Harry had made his way down to the dungeons first thing, alongside Hermione. He'd approached the new potions professor on Saturday and asked if he could test into Potions. It wasn't something he'd ever have asked Snape, but now he didn't see that he had all that much to lose. If he'd been denied then he'd have merely embarrassed himself in front of a stranger, yet if he succeeded? Voldemort looked here to stay, and how was Harry supposed to kill him without auror training?

The test that Professor Slughorn had put together had had the added benefit of isolating him. He wasn't sure why he didn't want to talk to Ron and Hermione; they'd left the Room of Requirement well after curfew and on good terms, but when he'd woken he'd wanted to be alone. It might have had something to do with the nightmare, or the dull pain in his shoulder, or possibly neither.

Hermione had, of course, been delighted. Ron? Less so.

"You want to do extra work?" his voice was incredulous. "That's, what, five hours a week in a dungeon with Malfoy when you could be in bed! Or flying! Or-"

"I think it's a very good idea Harry." said Hermione. "It opens up a lot of career opportunities."

"You could come too Ron." said Harry. "I'm sure Slughorn would let you try as well, and you need it to become an auror."

"Nah, I burned all my potions notes at the start of summer." He winced at Hermione's look of outrage and Harry laughed. "Besides I'd never make it." Ron looked sideways at Hermione and she glared at him. "Besides, I'm thinking of going for the healing class."

"Really?" she asked.

"Always the tone of surprise." he said wryly. Hermione blushed slightly. Was there something going on there? He assumed not - Ron had never been one for subtle unless it was accidental.

"Yeah." he said. "And that incorporates the necessary potions, so as long as my specialism doesn't need a lot of brewing I should be okay."

"Oh Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's wonderful! And of course most of the things healers specialise in don't need NEWT brewing, just recognition and identification of potions, because it's mostly the experimental side that requires- what?"

She stopped talking and turned to face the boys, who were both laughing into their toast.

"Ron's specialism is obviously going to be quidditch Hermione." said Harry.

She looked at him questioningly. "But-"

"Becoming a sports healer is an excellent way to get into management." Ron admitted. "Not that I don't think it'd be useful anyway. Maybe we can cut down on your trips to the hospital wing Harry!"

Hermione smiled, hiding her disappointment well. "I think it's a great idea Ron."

Sunday had passed in a blur. He'd risen early and again avoided his friends for a while. He took his firebolt out and drifted over the lake, dew still on the grass, and then sat on the edge of the forest with a book, letting his glamours drop and feeling the careful tension of keeping them in place release. All summer he'd ached to be back here, to be with Ron and Hermione, to be in the mountains rather than the suburbs. But now he was here he felt a strange kind of lethargy. He knew what he had to do - keep his head down and get the grades to join the aurors. The prophecy said he had to kill Voldemort so he supposed he'd have to kill him or, most probably, die trying.

In frustration Harry threw a rock into a large tree at the edge of the forest. He must have pushed some of his frustration into it, as it made a dent in the tree large enough for a viscous black substance to start oozing out into the damp earth. He stared at it, his momentary anger gone. What was the point, when his emotion was just destructive? He'd damaged the tree. He'd got Sirius killed.

Harry lay back down and stared up at the clouds.

It was afternoon before his mood picked up and he remounted his broom. As he flew back toward the castle he was waved over by what seemed to be most of the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors in his year. Ron, unable to find Harry and sick of Hermione's worrying, had organised a pick-up quidditch match. Hermione, after briefly scolding Harry with worried eyes, had sat out along with two of the boys from the other house, but everybody else had proved themselves an adequate flyer. They didn't have a snitch so did without, switching positions regularly. It had gone on so late that Snape, who was for some reason covering for McGonagall, came out to send them back inside and straight to bed, both houses losing points.

And suddenly it was Monday.

The first potions class had been interesting. Slughorn had let him pick up a book on the Saturday after testing and Harry had, unsurprisingly, chosen the one that wasn't covered in somebody else's handwriting. He'd scanned it out of curiosity and realised that a lot of the notes were updates to the potion instructions, so he'd taken it too (with Slughorn's permission) for reference, though the handwriting had been too bad to try to decipher during the actual class.

Before they brewed though, Slughorn had shown them some new potions. He'd recognised the polyjuice potion of course, and amortentia had been covered in some detail in the reading he'd done during the summer, but _Felix Felicis_ had been unfamiliar to everybody other than Hermione. It had been no surprise when she'd won the prize for the potion she'd made, though Slughorn had given his potion a nod, and they'd both left the class sweaty but happy.

Hermione pulled him into an alcove. "You should take this Harry." She pushed the vial of golden liquid into his palm. He stared at it.

"What? No."

"Yes!" Her voice wavered slightly. "Who needs luck more than you?"

"The people foolish enough to be my friends." He looked away. "Sirius was the one who needed it last year. Next time he might take you."

She reached out and turned his face back to her. He met her eyes unwillingly. "He'd keep us alive if it brought you to us."

He handed the vial back to her. "Why don't you split into twelve portions? Or six? Then we can share it if it ever gets... bad."

She nodded. "If you're sure." He was.

They'd left their privacy, ignoring the odd look that Nott gave the pair of them, and made their way toward Charms, where Ron joined them, and the three of them had transfiguration together. Hermione had gone to Runes and Harry and Ron had spent a largely pleasant hour by the lake, idly practising summoning charms.

"So how was your summer?" Ron's face was screwed up in concentration, and consequently the sandwich that he was attempting to summon into his mouth merely hit him on the chin. "Ow!"

Harry opened his own mouth, trying to decide how to respond. "It was okay." he said. He put his wand behind his head. "Accio apple!"

Despite the speed at which he'd said the incantation, and the fact that his mouth was wide open, it didn't work. The apple zoomed around his head and smacked into his wand hand, causing Harry to punch himself in the back of the head.

"Fuck."

Ron snorted with laughter. "I'm glad you don't try to catch the snitch like that."

"Prat."

"So your relatives weren't too bad?"

"No worse than normal."

That didn't seem to satisfy Ron.

"Were they any better though? After what dad and the others said at the platform?"

Harry merely rolled his eyes. "Sure." He dug into his bag, pulling out the spellcasting reference book he'd bought over the summer, flicking through until he found the right page. "Look - this spell - it's like a modifier. I think if you add it onto the end of your spell it makes the result happen where your wand is at that time, rather than making the spell move with your wand."

"You sound like Hermione. What?"

"Like this." Harry frowned and practised the particular wrist twist, then said clearly " _Accio-ai_ apple." The apple zoomed toward him and he caught it. "Hang on, I'll try again. I forgot to move my wand after I cast."

Harry threw the apple back to Ron and did the spell again, more confidently this time. He placed his wand to his mouth, repeated the spell and watched as-"

"Fuck!"

The spell had done it's job, and instead of zooming to Harry's wand, the apple had hit Harry like a punch on his mouth. Ron was almost rolling on the floor he was laughing so hard. Harry clutched his hands to his mouth and felt a trickle of blood.

"Fucking hell."

"Mate!" Ron was almost wheezing. "Harry." He stopped laughing enough to cast a gentle numbing charm on his bruised lip -" _I've seen mum do it hundreds of times_ "- and they slowly calmed down.

"You know" said Harry thoughtfully "this explains a lot."

"Yeah?"

"Well firstly it explains why we can never exactly copy what Hermione does, if she modifies spells slightly like this, and she must, because whenever she _accios_ a book it lands on the table in front of her."

"Good point. Secondly?"

"Hermione can't catch."

They collapsed back into laughter.

* * *

"What are the Dark Arts?"

The question elicited silence from the glass. Harry saw Parvati's eyes flicker nervously to Snape and then land back on the blackboard. His own focus was on Remus though. What was Remus doing here? Why were he and Snape teaching Defence together? He racked his brains and quickly realised that he'd hardly been at the feast long enough to notice any staffing changes. But why hadn't Remus told him he'd be here? Why hadn't he sought him out? The last time Harry had seen the man had been at the train station when he, along with Moody and Mr Weasley, had threatened Uncle Vernon.

Harry winced. It hadn't been a particularly effective threat.

But why, why hadn't Remus sent him an owl? Why was he standing here, scanning the class and - scanning past Harry - pointing at Dean?

"Thomas."

"Dark Arts are evil magic, sir. Spells that hurt people?"

Remus nodded in thanks.

"There's a starting point then. Spells that hurt people."

Theodore Nott raised a hand. "Surely that's intention though? Most spells that can be used to hurt people can also be beneficial."

"Not the Unforgivables."

"Imperius used to be used on suicidal muggles, as well as witches and wizards." said Nott quietly. "It used to save lives."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm sure your family knows all about using the imperius, Nott!"

"Don't you fucking talk about my family!"

"Enough." Said Snape, his voice dangerous for all that it was quiet. "Detention, Mr Weasley." Harry waited for Nott to be given a detention and glared at Remus when it didn't come.

"That was a good example actually, Mr Nott. Imperius has been used when an individual has been deemed incompetent to act in their own best interests. Can anybody tell me why it was banned?" Hermione raised her hand. Snape ignored her. "Ms Greengrass."

"The Unforgivables have never truly been banned, with the exception of the Crutiatus curse." Daphne spoke quietly. "The aurors have never been persecuted for their use."

"Then why are they called the _Dark_ Arts?" asked Ron, rhetorically. "Oh yeah, because they're DARK!"

"Actually" said Terry "the labels 'Light' and 'Dark' only came to be associated with different genres of magic during the nineteenth century. Back then there was still far more overlap between the muggle and the wizarding worlds, partly because it was before they started using electricity so much. Lots of muggles from Europe ended up colonising other parts of the world, and obviously the magical community got involved too. Words like 'dark' and 'black' became associated not just with the unknown and therefore the dangerous, but with darker skinned communities, who were routinely subjugated and enslaved. Blood magic and elemental magic were more widely practised abroad than in Europe - and wizards here were threatened and scared. Ancient magics were vilified and called 'dark', like their enslaved peoples." His Liverpudlian accent had strengthened during his speech, and he looked slightly pink.

There was a small silence while everybody digested this.

"Here's to Ravenclaws." Said Blaise Zabini, to a smattering of laughter. The boy had somehow brought a small gold goblet to class, and he raised it at Terry, who blushed slightly, but nodded. Harry supposed that racial prejudice must intersect with Blood prejudice somehow, though it was certainly not something frequently discussed at Hogwarts. The rest of the class looked slightly embarrassed. Hermione didn't seem to know where to look, although Blaise had raised his goblet to each non-white occupant of the room, and Ron just looked confused. Harry was curious as to where Terry had learned about it. He had known some of the muggle history from primary school and it seemed far more interesting and relevant than the goblin wars Binns had always droned on about.

Malfoy spoke up then. "So it's some old muggles' fault that people are prejudiced against Old Magic! They clearly shouldn't have conolised other places, how uncivilised."

"Colonised Malfoy, honestly!" said Hermione, exasperated. "And it was wizards too, or do you think that the white muggles were so superior that they could have defeated entire indigenous magical communities without help?"

"Fuck off, Mudblood."

"Detention Mr Malfoy." said Snape quietly. Malfoy looked sulky but remained silent.

"So British witches and wizards didn't practice blood magic? They were scared of it because it was different?" asked Harry curiously. "Or how is it different to 'Old Magic'?

"Of course, the Purebloods were largely practising 'dark' magic too, they just kept it quiet. It was a way to keep that particular knowledge restricted to particular parts of society." Hermione's voice was waspish.

"You almost sound as though you believe the Dark Arts should be widely taught, Granger." said Nott.

She turned and glared at him. "I agree with you, actually, regarding the intention behind magic making the difference. We all know rules can be broken in the right circumstances-" Ron mimed fainting in shock- "but the current use of the Dark Arts, primarily to torture, kill, and further divide people-"

"Enough, Miss Granger." Professor Snape. She looked indignantly up at him but he just stared at her impassively until she turned her body fully to face the front of the class again. "Fascinating territory as this is, I fear that we are moving away toward somewhat contentious ground. Three rolls of parchment - _not copied -_ on the history of 'Dark' or 'Old' magic will be due in two weeks time in addition to your usual homework. If anybody fails to read up on any of the points discussed in class they will receive detention."

Harry sighed. They had already got homework today from Sprout and McGonagall, and it sounded as though Snape had somehow endeavoured to set additional homework. He took out a biro (he'd realised over the summer how little he could read of his writing when using a quill) and noted the assignment in his notebook. Ron didn't bother.

Snape glared at Remus. "Let us begin again. What ethical principles do you think that a witch or wizard should hold herself or himself to at all times, and why? Miss Patil, you will start. Go!"

* * *

It was an hour later that they were excused. Harry had realised partway through the discussion that it had been Professor Snape who had discovered Umbridge's detention sheets. He must know what Harry had had to write, and he'd probably told Remus. The thought distracted him, and he lost concentration, starting to doodle on his parchment. Snape had looked down and Harry was sure that he'd been caught sidetracked, but Snape only glanced at Lupin and moved on to Lavender.

When class ended Harry left quickly, not looking toward the professors.

"What happened to your face, Potter?" sneered Malfoy, pushing past. "Did you kiss Granger and get punched? I bet the mudblood doesn't even know how to pucker up."

"You're the only person I've ever punched Malfoy." said Hermione viciously. "And I went to the Yule Ball with a seventeen year old international quidditch star, remember?"

Malfoy twisted his lip but stalked off as Professor Snape snapped his name. Harry was surprised to see that Malfoy looked somewhat mutinous at Snape's summoning, and the professor was glaring down at the boy as he directed him back into the empty classroom. Remus appeared to have vanished, and Harry felt a bulky knot of rejection settle in his stomach.

Hermione shook herself, still recovering from her put-down of Malfoy. "What a little prick."

"Yeah." Harry looked sidewise at Ron, but he didn't seem to have heard the conversion, caught up muttering about Nott with Dean. Hermione looked slightly relieved.

"What did happen to your face then Harry?" She looked concerned. "That bruise wasn't there this morning."

For a moment he panicked, thinking that one of his glamours had worn off, but then he remembered the bruise on his lip where the apple had hit him. He laughed, relieved.

"You'll never believe it Hermione, but Ron and I did some spell practice earlier."

By the time they sat down in the hall, Hermione looked unsure whether to be amused or exasperated and Ron had joined them, performing a dramatic re-enactment of Harry's attack on himself.

Harry's attention was caught though by the high table. It was surprisingly bare.

"Where are they all?" He hissed at Ron and Hermione. With a sinking feeling he realised that there wasn't a single order member present.

"They must be having a meeting." Breathed Hermione.

"Nice of them to invite us." Harry muttered. The moment of levity had passed, and he poked moodily at his stew, no longer particularly hungry. Ron and Hermione glanced at each other as they sat down, but he narrowed his eyes at their look and they didn't say anything to him, and after a moment Hermione was sidetracked talking to a boy in the year above about the first enchanting class which was due to take place the following evening.

Harry spent the meal doodling quidditch drills with Ron, though he kept glancing up at the empty seats at the head table. He'd thought Dumbledore would involve him more after their discussion about the Prophecy. He'd kept expecting a summons during the summer, but after a few weeks he'd realised that, with Sirius dead and the Weasleys visiting Charlie, there was nowhere for him to go other than the Dursleys'.

He left the hall feeling depressed despite Ron's enthusiasm for tryouts.

"Potter." The three Gryffindors fell silent as Nott approached them, Greengrass beside him.

"What?" He asked dully. Nott's eyes narrowed.

"Here." Greengrass said quietly. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a small pot of purple bruise remover. He took it gingerly and blinked at the lid.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"

Ron looked at Greengrass in shock and she raised an eyebrow.

"You know we're 'blood traitors', right?"

"I had heard that, yes." she said coolly.

"So is this some kind of a joke?"

She smirked and Ron flushed, his temper rising. He snatched the tub from Harry's hand and looked at it closely, then handed it to Hermione who cast a couple of diagnostic charms on it.

"It can't find any evidence of tampering." she said slowly. Daphne glared.

"I supposed we would be more worried if they were any less paranoid." she said to Nott.

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"You have a bruise on your face Potter, or hadn't you noticed." Nott was sarcastic.

Harry flushed. "I didn't know you cared about my appearance Nott."

"I don't."

"Then why-"

"It's a peace offering, Potter. Or at least a tentative truce." Nott stepped forward, hands empty. "And the only reason we're doing it this obviously is because Daphne reminded me that Gryffindors don't do subtle."

Hermione bristled and the blonde girl glared at them. "I've done literally nothing to antagonise you, yet you all laugh when someone sends a trip-jinx my way for being a Slytherin. Forgive me for not wanting to waste any more valuable time waiting for you to learn to differentiate between schoolchildren wearing green and Death Eaters."

Harry looked away from her to Nott. "Your father was in the graveyard."

"I'm not my father."

Harry paused for a moment, then took the bruise cream from Hermione and, ignoring Ron's hiss of outrage, dabbed a little on the visible bruise on his lip. They all waited a moment before it vanished with a little burst of relief. He handed the pot back to Greengrass with a nod of thanks.

"I'm not saying I trust you." he said firmly. "But thank you."

Nott and Greengrass nodded and left down a dungeon corridor, and the three started to climb.

"Why would you take that from them? They're Slytherins!"

"I don't know, Ron." said Harry, his frustration building. "Of course I don't bloody trust them, but I trust Hermione and I wanted that bruise gone, okay?"

"What do you think they meant by peace offering?" asked Hermione.

Harry shrugged. "No idea, but we might as well play along and find out. I told you that Nott and Malfoy were talking on the train, didn't I? I reckon Nott's spying on us for Voldemort, but I reckon we could do the same back - use him to get close to Malfoy?"

"I- I guess so?" Hermione didn't sound sure.

"You think he's serious?"

"No! But what's Malfoy got to do with it?"

"I just told you! He-"

Hermione sighed and Harry broke off, annoyed.

"What else would Nott be doing Hermione?" asked Ron. "I think Harry's right, and Nott _is_ just trying to get close to us."

"I don't know Harry... do you really think he'd have recruited teenagers?"

"He tried to recruit me when I was eleven."

"What?" They stopped walking on the third floor corridor. There was no sign of the trapdoor anymore.

"What do you mean Harry?"

He kicked at the wall. "He told me he could bring my parents back."

"Oh Harry."

"Yeah I know." Harry's voice was thick. "I know he'd have killed me, and I didn't really believe him anyway, but I don't think he'd hesitate to use children."

"He used Ginny, too." said Ron.

Hermione nodded. "I- yes. You're right. You're both right. We'll keep an eye on Nott, Harry."

He nodded tightly, and they made their way to the common room where they settled down at the window and watched the smoke rise from Hagrid's hut. Harry could feel a headache coming on and he knew it was from the glamours. The bruises were fading, but appearing with half-healed injuries would just cause more questions. It was still too early to go to bed though, so he just pressed his forehead against the cool glass.

"I found this, Hermione." he said, pulling out the spare potions book from his bag. "It was one of the spares that Slughorn offered me."

"Professor Slughorn Harry." she said absently, pulling it toward her. "But someone's written all over it."

"What's the potions teacher like?" asked Ron. "He's Slytherin, isn't he?"

Harry shrugged. "He's okay. He was a bit over the top at the weekend - seemed surprised that I hadn't done better in my OWL and told me my mum was a great brewer."

Hermione looked up at that and smiled. "I didn't know that."

"Me neither." Harry admitted. "But he said that she loved it. To be honest I think he's probably partly interested in the fact that I'm famous too - he talked to a bunch of people in class with family members he claimed to know and seemed surprised that I hadn't got his message thing on the train?"

"Oh sorry mate, you were sleeping so I told the kid to sod off."

"Yeah cheers. Anyway - he's less of a fame-hungry fraud than Lockhart, and at least he leaves me alone, rather than goading me like Snape used to do, so he's fine, I think."

"Fair." said Ron. "Though I think our standards are off. Teachers should be somewhere between 'bad' and 'good', not somewhere between 'good' and 'possessed by a dead Dark Lord'".

They all paused a moment to laugh - then Hermione opened the book wider to show them the writing in it.

"It's clearly someone who knows a lot about potions." she said. "I don't really believe in writing in books, but I think some of these techniques are better than the ones in the instructions."

"Wonder why Snape and Slughorn don't teach this then."

Hermione shrugged. "They should. But I guess it's hard enough getting students to follow the textbook - additional instructions might just mean more chaos. And actually a lot of these are quite standard improvements. Certainly not all of them, and whoever wrote this has a very intuitive grasp of potions, but I've occasionally deviated from the instructions in similar ways."

Harry raised a brow at her.

"Not often. I like to try the way in the book first. But sometimes the reference books for the essays have alternative instructions. I just don't like to experiment in class though - it's dangerous enough already down there."

"What are 'reference books'"? asked Ron. "The words sound familiar but I think they must be dangerous if they're encouraging you to deviate from the instructions Hermione."

"I didn't know you knew the word 'deviate', Ron."

"Hey!"

Harry rolled his eyes with a smirk, and picked up the book.

"So you think they could be useful?"

Hermione nodded. "I want to cross reference first, but maybe we could use this like another reference book, and try out a few of the techniques that we're sure will work? There are fewer people and better brewers in the NEWT class anyway, and Slughorn might be able to give us some tips."

Harry nodded. "Sounds good." He shoved the book back into his bag and pulled out a spare piece of parchment. He wrote "Quidditch Tryouts - Sunday at Noon!" in large letters across the top and then considered it. "Think this needs anything else?"

"Yeah." said Ron. Harry handed him the parchment and Ron took the quill, signing his own name at the top. _Ron Weasley - Keeper_.

"Perfect." said Harry. He went over to the notice board in the common room, which was already covered in announcements. There was a timetable for the gobstones club and wizard chess, an infographic about the importance of using a wand holster that he was ninety-nine percent sure had been drafted by Alastor Moody (the clue was in the enormous 'Constant Vigilance!' that flashed in red every few seconds), and-

"What's this?"

"What's what?" Ron looked up from his essay and took the notice from him. "Oh - I forgot about this completely! We wanted to ask you about it but you went off somewhere on Sunday, remember?"

"Why would you ask me about it? I'm asking you!"

"Calm it a mo', Harry. We thought Remus would have told you."

"Nope." Harry's throat felt closed off.

"He hasn't said anything about becoming head of house?"

"Ron I didn't even know he was here until we arrived at Defence!"

"Harry, have any of the professors talked to you since we got back?"

"Yeah of course - you know I went to see Slughorn, and McGonagall called on me in class."

"That's not what I meant." said Hermione. She exchanged a look with Ron. "We thought maybe - after what we heard at the Ministry..." she trailed off awkwardly.

Harry glanced around the common room, spotting Neville over with Dean, Seamus and Parvati. "Come up to the dorm? There are too many people here."

They hurried upstairs and settled on Harry's bed. Ron and Hermione were looking at him expectantly and he felt himself start to panic a little. How was he supposed to tell them this?"

"Dumbledore talked to me last term." He said. A ball of lead seemed to settle inside his stomach, and as he acknowledged its presence it seemed to fill him up inside, weighing him down. "That prophecy, the one with my name on it, it was about me."

"But it was destroyed!"

"That doesn't matter, apparently. Dumbledore witnessed it so he could show me the memory of the prophecy. It said - _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._ "

He trailed off. Ron was staring out the window and Hermione's mouth was open. She closed it.

"No."

"Hermione, Dumbledore showed it to me."

"But how are you supposed to kill him? And-"

He sighed and interrupted her. "I don't know, okay."

She took his wrist and frowned for a moment, then looked back up at him.

"I guess..." she seemed to resolve herself. "I guess it's good to finally know why he's after you? I always wondered why he was so keen to target your family, but I figured your parents were key members of the Order..."

"I guess. I don't see how it really helps me though."

"What did Dumbledore say?"

Harry lay down. "Not a lot."

"What do you mean, not a lot?"

"I mean he didn't tell me much. I guess he has a plan, and maybe that's what they're all talking about tonight, though I know he only told me about the words of the prophecy, not the Order, but it's not like we're even invited to know what they do, are we?" His voice rose, exacerbating the pounding of his head.

"Let's go and ask." said Ron. Harry and Hermione looked at him. He hadn't spoken since Harry had told them the prophecy and Harry realised that his friend was very white.

"Are you okay, Ron? I've had all summer to think about it."

"Are _you_ okay with it?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing much I can do, is there. I'll just keep fucking up and try not to get too many other people killed along the way."

"That's a crap strategy." said Ron flatly.

"What the fuck else should I do?"

"We should go and ask Dumbledore what the plan is." said Ron. He turned to them, animated. "Think about it - Dumbledore must have a plan, and Harry's clearly in the middle of it. They can't keep us in the dark, not after the Ministry last term, and this Prophecy."

"Since when are they going to tell us anything? The Order doesn't even know most of Dumbledore's plans!"

"We'll make them." said Ron. "If they're having a meeting now then we can go and confront them. Remus is probably there too, so you can ask him why he never contacted you Harry. The Order owes you this!"

"What if there isn't a plan?"

"Then we make one! Think about it Harry! Right now we're fucking pawns with Dumbledore on one side and Voldemort on the other and it's moving bloody slowly. We need a proper strategy." He looked to Hermione.

"I'm not sure bursting in on their meeting is the way to do it." said Hermione hesitantly. "They probably won't even let us in, and it's terribly rude."

"I don't care." said Ron. "Not after last year. Sirius is dead because Dumbledore didn't tell us all what was going on, and you heard Harry - nobody at all has talked to him since June. They came to talk to all of us about Umbridge, but not Harry?"

Hermione sat up and nodded, seeming to share a glance with Ron. "Okay, let's do this."

"No, guys - wait!" Harry said. He'd watched Ron get more and more worked up with apprehension. "You've told me about Umbridge, I don't need other people fussing over me."

"That's not the point!"

"Yeah it is!" he said angrily. "It's my choice. It's me that it happened to, and if they wanted to be a part of that bit of my life then they bloody well should have decided that at the time. It's over."

"At least come and ask what the strategy is."

"You can."

"Just come with us Harry."

He looked at Ron's angry face, and at Hermione pleading, and relented. Now that he thought about it, perhaps venting his anger at the Order - and at Remus - was exactly what he wanted to do. It wouldn't work, he knew that, but it might feel good.

"Fine. Let's go."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

 **CN mentions of abuse.**

 **Apologies for the wait! I didn't have my laptop with me over Christmas and New Year, and I had exams in December and then again in January - and I've also had the odd holiday, again without a laptop. The words just don't come as easily to me on a phone keyboard. Plus this was a tricky chapter to write. I've been doing this in an odd order. There's a relatively late-on chapter that I've had fully written for months now, but this one just kept sticking. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! As ever, please let me know (even if it's just about typos or continuity errors... I should probably get an editor!).**

Severus ground his teeth together. They'd been sat here for far too long, in his opinion. Albus had repeated his explanation of the Horcruxes with appropriate exclamations and interjections from Alastor and Minerva, and occasionally Lupin, who seemed somewhat recovered and more alert than before. The other occupant of the room, Unspeakable Croaker, had been silent throughout. Severus had never even heard of the man, which unnerved him, but he had taken an unbreakable vow of discretion and support. Also, Lupin had insisted on sending the owl and Albus had subsequenly invited him. Unspeakables, Severus thought sarcastically, could probably get around unbreakable vows, but if that were the case then the Dark Lord was unaware of the fact, so this Unspeakable was probably not a Death Eater.

"Why did you not tell us this sooner Albus?" said Minerva. "I appreciate that the matter must be kept secret from the Death Eaters, but from us? There was one in the castle! Two, if you count the diary some years ago! We were lucky nobody died!"

The same arguments had been going around the room over and over again. Why had Albus not shared his information sooner? What were they going to do? What was the Order's role to be? They were getting nowhere. He'd have blamed the discord on the Horcrux itself if Alastor, in a fit of temper, hadn't cast fiendfyre at it as soon as Albus had disclosed the item's nature. It had let out an unearthly scream that had seemed to burn Severus' dark mark diredtly. There table, Severus suspected, would never recover.

Moody banged his fist on the table and the room fell silent. "Potter is outside" he grunted "with two of his friends. They've got a pretty impressive invisibility cloak over them."

Albus flicked his wand at the door and it opened, revealing a flustered Granger, knuckles poised to knock, and Weasley stuffing a piece of parchment into his pocket. How that map hadn't been confiscated when Crouch got hold of it Severus didn't know. They were incredibly lucky that Crouch had not absconded that night and allowed the Dark Lord to get hold of it.

"Oh!" Granger said. "We were just about to knock." Severus rolled his eyes. Why state something so obvious?

The headmaster was more polite.

"Please join us." he said courteously.

The children entered the room and Severus was surprised at their configuration. Weasley was in front, looking defiant, with Granger behind biting her lip nervously and Potter at the back, sullen and pale against the doorframe. Usually Potter and Weasley would have been in front, their hot tempers somewhat counterbalanced by the overly verbose girl, but today Potter seemed to be taking a backseat.

"What brings you here tonight Miss Granger?"

"Professor Dumbleore we-"

"We want to know the plan." interrupted Weasley.

There was silence in the room.

"The plan?" asked Albus politely.

"Yes." said Weasley. "Harry needs a power that _the Dark Lord Knows Not_. So what is it? What's the plan to kill Voldemort?"

Severus saw Albus flinch, but the room remained silent. From the corner of his eye he noted that Minerva and Lupin looked equally confused as he. He suspected that only Albus truly understood what was going on and, from the speculative look on the Unspeakable's face, it occured to him that Albus might have told the boy the whole prophecy. That certainly sounded like a quote, though Severus himself had never heard the entirity. How very stupid of the headmaster.

Eventually, the headmaster spoke. "I had planned to give Harry extra lessons this year." Severus raised an eyebrow. Albus had not discussed these with him. "I had also engaged, as you might have noticed, to have duelling and defence properly instructed once more."

Severus could read Weasley's emotions in his eyes and found them surprisingly similar to his own. Dumbledore arranged the duelling tuition? That was a by-product of the ministry's disgrace in relation to Umbridge, and the boy seemed to have understood this. That was certainly interesting.

"Extra lessons on what?" asked Granger. She sounded eager.

"That will be between myself and the recipient of the lessons."

"What else is the Order doing?" asked Weasley. "What's the overall plan?"

"That is only for adult members of the Order, as well you know." said Minerva tartly, but it seemed that Weasley had reached the end of his temper.

"That's not good enough!" he roared.

"Enough!" said Minerva, and Severus shot her an approving look, but the boy wasn't through.

"You were _going_ to tell Harry that you were giving him private lessons? Why not tell him sooner? Is it in case he'd tell me and I'd owl send Pig to the Dark-bloody-Lord and then _he'd_ know about the powers and your stupid prophecy would be invalid?"

There wasn't time for Severus to try to decipher why the boy might be attempting to send a farm animal to the Dark Lord, as Weasley was nowhere close to being finished.

"Think about how Harry feels!"

Potter tried to interrupt. "Ron - no!"

" Sirius dies, you tell him he's got to defeat Voldemort, and then you send him to stay with his bloody aunt and uncle for the _entire_ summer! He had bars on his room when he was _twelve_!" Severus hadn't known that particular titbit. "Nobody listened to what Harry needed - what _we_ needed - last year either." Ron continued furiously. "We needed Defence training! We needed to know what the Order was up to. Harry needed to know _why_ occlumency was so important, rather than letting him think that it would give him clues about who was in danger. And instead you let Umbridge tell him he was a liar over and over again! And nobody's even talked to Harry about that yet. He was in detention forever! If he were any _normal_ student you'd all have intervined years ago, but now you're saying he's just a normal teenager and doesn't get a say!"

He had grabbed Potter's hand and held it up, and with a swooping feeling in his stomach Severus realised that Minerva would not have had a chance to speak to the boy yet. Potter pulled away, clearly furious with his friend, but before he could interrupt, a silver patronus - some kind of bird, flew into the room, crash-landing on the table in front of Minerva.

She stood immediately, wand out. Severus didn't recognise the bird but Albus and Alastor clearly did, and were almost as quick on their feet as Minerva. Her face was white, and she fumbled with a hairpin. Severus recognised the incantation for a portkey, though he'd never mastered the spell.

"Headmaster." Severus was on his feet, wand out.

"Stay, Severus . And you too, Remus. _Stay_ , Harry!." The werewolf reluctantly sat back down, and Severus did too, understanding if not enjoying the logic. He was a spy and the wolf was still weak. The Unspeakable joined Minerva and wordlessly pressed his wand to the hairpin, which glowed blue for a moment. Minerva nodded in thanks as the adults, save for himself and Remus, gathered, and there was a flash of light. They disappeared in a swirl of colour, and the room was suddenly still and silent.

"What was that?" said Potter. His voice, too loud, echoed oddly around the stone room, and Severus realised that all three students were still stood up.

"Sit down." said Severus shortly. He had no idea where his colleagues had gone, and had absolutely no desire to divulge that fact. He could tell by the tension in Lupin's eyes , so much more than had been present the moment before, that he was likewise unhappy. His voice though, when he spoke, did not betray his frustration.

"I'm sorry for not saying hello already." said Lupin. "I've spent some time in the hospital wing already this term."

Potter looked up, then glanced at the window.

Lupin shook his head. "It was not that, though I will ask that you do not enquire as to my accident."

The children, though curious, reluctantly nodded.

"I suggest that you two leave." said Lupin to Granger and Weasley. "I wish to have a private conversation with Severus and Harry." His eyes met Weasley's and then Weasley nodded shortly.

Potter still didn't appear to be looking at his friends.

"Sorry for shouting mate." said Weasley. "I thought someone else should take over, your voice might crack." he was clearly trying to joke but Potter refused to laugh.

"Talk to them, Harry!" urged Granger. The pair of them left the room, Granger shutting the door carefully behind her. Severus could hear them start to bicker as soon as they'd left the room, and Lupin started to set up some silencing and privacy charms, clearly trying to make the boy feel at ease by explaining them to him in some detail. When the boy seemed sufficiently relaxed, notwithstanding his frequent glares toward Severus, he began.

"I think the best way into this, Mr Potter, is to discuss your detentions with Madame Umbridge last year." said Severus silkily.

Potter looked uneasily at Remus.

"We are both aware - belatedly I might add - of what you and others were subjected to." he told the boy quietly. "Minerva would have already discussed the situation with you either before term started, had we been able to visit, or since the beginning of term, had extenuating circumstances not prevented her."

Potter frowned.

"It means we were unaware at the time." said Remus reassuringly. "I can promise you that no other adult knew of the severity of the detentions."

Severus rolled his eyes, though it seemed that the boy had needed the vocabulary primer because he followed Lupin's explanation with a nod.

"I must start by asking that you drink this." said Snape. He pushed the vial of potion toward the child, who looked at it suspiciously. "I imagine that Mister Weasley and Ms Granger have already explained the compulsion charm to you." he said. "This will lift it."

Potter looked to Remus and, at his nod, removed the stopper and drank the potion. Severus waited for him to swallow.

"May I see your hand Potter?" he asked.

"Why?" he said defensively. "It's over. What can you do?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I suppose that this might be a good segue into the other appalling adults in your life that we need to discuss."

"Which appalling adults in particular _Sir_?"

Severus was on his feet in an instant, but Lupin stood too, speaking quietly.

"Harry is likely to try to make you angry as a distraction Severus."

Severus considered this for a moment, then sat slowly. It rankled to have the wolf point this out, but in this instance he supposed that the other was likely to be correct. He pulled his emotions back behind his occlumency shields, and faced Potter once more, who was shooting a betrayed look at Lupin.

"I was speaking before your _inadvisable_ interruption about your relatives." said Severus. He noted how the boy seemed to shut down slightly at the mention of them, shrinking back into his seat, though his colour, interestingly, barely changed.

"What about them?" he asked sullenly.

"It seems that you might have kept quiet about the detentions last year - at least your own - without the compulsion charm." said Severus. "You certainly seem reluctant to discuss them now, despite the likely relief of the charm's removal. Why is that?"

"I thought we were talking about my aunt and uncle?" Potter sounded suspicious.

"We are." said Severus. Lupin appeared to be letting him have a back-seat, which was interesting. He'd have thought that Lupin would want as much involvement as possible in such a sensitive discussion. He continued talking to the boy. "It seems to me that although you are perfectly happy to have the whole school lapping at your heels for something as idiotic as Quidditch, you would have been happy to let serious abuse go unchallenged for fear of making a fuss."

He steepled his fingers. "I would hypothesise that, were Mr Weasley's rather loud comments accurate, you would be hesitant to confirm that to us."

The boy suddenly looked panicked. "They're not true though! They don't hurt me or anything, not really, and I've got a bedroom and everything!"

"Why on earth would you not have a bedroom?"

The boy's mouth closed in a thin line. Severus filed the comment for further review.

"There is more than one type of abuse, Harry." said Lupin gently. "And I don't actually believe that they don't hurt you. Why else would you be wearing a glamour?"

Severus' eyebrows shot up. On close inspection he realised that the wolf was right. The boy looked almost unusually healthy.

"A glamour, Potter?" He sneered. "And you say that they don't hurt you? That you would be prepared to ask for help?"

Potter flinched backward, glaring once more at his father's friend.

"It's nothing. I've got acne!"

"Be that as it may." said Severus. He raised his wand and removed the glamour, lips thinning as he took in the boy's appearance. He heard Lupin growl softly.

Potter had gone from a healthy teenager to an almost emaciated child before his eyes. To be sure, he wasn't _quite_ on the verge of collapse, but he was at least severely malnourished. He was also covered in bruises.

"Explain."

Potter looked sullenly down, his hands crossed defensively across his skinny chest. Remus took over.

"Please explain the food that you would typically receive each day in the summer, Harry."

He looked up. "I'd get the leftovers if I finished my chores." his voice sounded resigned. "I wasn't really hungry anyway Remus. Not after..."

Remus nodded. "And what were your chores?"

"Same as normal I guess. Cleaning, cooking, gardening..."

Remus nodded again. "I see. Quite a lot of chores?"

"Yeah I suppose."

"And what about the bruises?"

Potter flinched.

"That was just this summer." he said. "It was mostly my cousin - you know, kids messing about."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "I was not aware that Petunia had any children other than the one closest in age to yourself."

Potter looked confused. "Who- Dudley? No, that's the one."

"You and your cousin are teenagers, Mr Potter. You are sixteen years old. Do you and your dorm-mates receive such injuries when you are 'messing about'?"

Potter frowned. "Dudley's different."

"Did they all come from your cousin?" asked Remus calmly.

Potter glanced up. "Yes."

"Don't lie to me Potter."

The boy flinched. "Fine. No."

"Who else?" Severus ground out.

"My uncle tripped me down the stairs once. My aunt shut a door on my hand. That kind of thing." He looked up quickly. "They weren't always this bad. I was just in a really bad mood, you know, at the start of the summer." he swallowed. "And last year the Dementors came and that scared them. They don't want me there and they don't know how to show it."

Severus was incensed. The boy was defending the Dursleys?

"It sounds like your aunt and uncle are scared of magic." said Lupin.

"Yeah they are." said Potter fervently. "They always have been. And honestly it doesn't matter, I don't have to go for long next year and then I can leave for good."

"Next year?" said Severus, his voice tight. "Why on earth would you return to them?"

Potter looked at him quizzically. "I have to, you know, for my mother's protection. Something about her blood living in the same house means Voldemort can't get at me."

"Who told you that?"

"D- Professor Dumbledore, sir."

"And did _Professor Dumbledore_ know how you were treated?"

"He knew I didn't want to go back." said Potter sullenly. "And he's got Mrs Figg and a bunch of the Order watching the house, like last summer I bet. He knows everything he wants to know."

Severus ground his teeth. Unfortunately the boy was probably right about the Headmaster, though he doubted that the Order - or even the headmaster - had been aware of the escalation this past summer.

"You will not be returning there." he said. Lupin nodded stiffly and Severus realised that his arms were clenched tightly on the chair, the nails making grooves in the wood.

"But the protection-!"

"Your mother did not intend _this!_ " spat out Severus. He could picture Lily now, her red hair falling over the face of herself and her child. She'd sent him a picture of the two of them when her child was almost one. He hadn't looked like James Potter at that point, but he'd already had her eyes. Her love shone through the photo and the child smiled up at her.

"She'd be furious." he said quietly. "This is the woman who found a way to shield her son against the killing curse. Do you really think she would not find an alternative to your current situation?"

"But Professor Dumble-"

"You will notice." said Severus silkily "that there are a number of places where you have not been abused. Professor Dumbledore, once he has been fully appraised of the situation, will appreciate that the training and lessons discussed earlier had best continue during the holidays, perhaps at the home of a trusted Order member."

"This does bring us back though Harry" said Lupin "to the fact that Hogwarts has not protected you from abuse either. Please would you show us your hand?"

Potter held out his hand stiffly, looking away. He looked as though he were still trying to process what Severus had just announced.

The scars on the boy's hand were not the red of his scar, but had faded to white. They were nevertheless clearly visible in the candlelight.

 _I must not tell lies._

Severus thought back to the pile of parchment in Potter's name and felt bile rise in his throat. He itched absent-mindedly at his own hand. He reached out and took the palm between his fingers, running a tip over the scar delicately and ignoring the boy's attempt to pull away.

"I am unlikely to be able to prevent or mitigate this scarring." he said. "It was done with malicious intent and has lain too long."

Potter shrugged uncomfortably, pulling the arm back. "Nobody really notices anyway."

That, Severus suspected, had been the problem all along. He knew that his own prejudices toward the boy had likely contributed to his negligence in failing to notice the abuse, but he had not been the only person to overlook it. He thought back to Weasley's words and rather thought that the boy had hit the nail on the head. Nobody expected ordinary with Potter, so nobody truly appreciated the extraordinary.

"We have noticed now." said Severus. He shifted in his seat and looked straight at the boy, feeling rather like he was apologising to Lily. How many times had he failed her? How many apologies did he have to make?

"It is our duty - my duty, Potter - to keep you safe. It is the duty of adults to notice and prevent abuse, not yours to alert us to it." he said. The green eyes were wide. "I failed to do that and, on behalf of Hogwarts and myself, I apologise for that. Dolores Umbridge's actions were unforgivable. We are doing our best to stop it from happening again. We also owed a duty of care in relation to your home situation, and I apologise unreservedly for our failure to rectify that also."

"I - um, okay." said Potter. He looked rather flushed, as, Severus noted, did Lupin. He sighed, and picked up the floo powder on the mantelpiece.

"I suggest we adjourn to the hospital wing." he said. Potter looked about to object. "You will need your bruises healed, Potter, and Mister Lupin does not appear to be fully recovered from his own ordeal."

Lupin glared at Severus, and he imagined that the wolf would likely have objected if Harry hadn't nodded in acquiescence, looking worriedly at his new Head of House.

"Potter." All three stopped and the other two turned to look at Severus, poised though they were by the fireplace. "We will need to discuss your situation with some of the staff - notably those who were here earlier tonight and Madame Pomfrey - but rest assured your secrets will not be otherwise divulged, other than in the most dire necessity."

Potter flushed slightly. "Thanks." Severus gave him a long, assessing look.

"You don't trust me."

Potter frowned. "You told everyone about Remus in third year."

Severus felt his neck warm and turned to the wolf, teeth gritted. "I apologise for my indiscretion, although I felt that my disclosure was in the public interest, given that you had just literally chased several students through the forest."

Remus bowed his head. "Quite understandable."

Severus turned back to Potter. "I suppose that trust would be asking too much, and understandably so given that I am a Death Eater, however I would like you to trust me on this point specifically. What you have confided here will remain confidential, subject to the provisions above. The abuse should not have been allowed to take place, and I swear to you that the remainder of the staff, with the possible exception of Argus Filch, had no knowledge of it. We let you down, Potter, as well as lots of other students, and we are trying to rectify that. Do you understand?"

The boy searched his eyes and Severus tried to project his intentions, allowing his Occlumency shields a rare break. After a long moment the boy nodded, turned, and stepped into the fire, followed quickly by Lupin. Severus was left alone, contemplating quite how easy that promise had been to make.


End file.
